The Power He Knows Not
by Goodpie2
Summary: At the age of four, Harry accidentally apparates to a strange underwater city, where he is rescued and raised by a crazy man in a mask. By the time Dumbledore finds him, Harry has discovered the "power he knows not"- ADAM.
1. Bioshock Summary

Bioshock for Idiots and People Who Haven't Played Bioshock

This is directly copied from the Wikipedia article on Bioshock.

_BioShock_ is set in 1960 in the underwater city of Rapture, with the history of the city told through audio recordings the player can collect during the game.[22][23] The city was planned and constructed in the 1940s by Objectivist business magnate Andrew Ryan who wanted to create autopia for society's elite to flourish outside of government control. Scientific progress greatly expanded, including the discovery of the plasmid ADAM created by sea slugs on the ocean floor; ADAM allowed its users to alter their DNA to grant them super-human powers like telekinesis andpyrokinesis.

Despite the apparent utopia, class distinctions grew, and former gangster and businessman Frank Fontaine used his influence of the lower class to plan a coup of Rapture. Fontaine created black market routes with the surface world, and together with Dr. Brigid Tenenbaum, created a cheap plasmid industry by mass-producing ADAM through the implanting of the slugs in the stomachs of orphaned girls, nicknamed "Little Sisters". Fontaine used his plasmid-enhanced army to attack Ryan, but reported was killed in the battle. Ryan took the opportunity to seize his assets including the plasmid factories. In the months that followed, a second figure named Atlas rose to speak for the lower class, creating further strife. Atlas led attacks on the factories housing the Little Sisters, and Ryan countered by creating "Big Daddies", plasmid-enhanced humans surgically grafted into giant lumbering diving suits who were psychologically compelled to protect the Little Sisters at all costs.[22] Ryan also created his own army of plasmid-enhanced soldiers, named "Splicers", which he controlled using pheromones distributed through Rapture's air system.

Tension came to a head on New Year's Eve of 1959, when Atlas ordered an all-out attack on Ryan. The battle left many dead, and the few sane survivors barricaded themselves away. What once was a beautiful utopia had fallen into a crumbling dystopia.[24] Some of the events described above are revisited and expanded upon in the downloadable content for _BioShock Infinite_, _Burial at Sea_, which takes place in Rapture during the latter months of 1959 and leads up to Atlas' assault on Ryan's forces.

Bioshock

In 1960, at the start of the game, player-character Jack is a passenger on a plane that goes down in the Atlantic Ocean.[26][27]As the only survivor, Jack makes his way to a nearby lighthouse that houses a bathysphere terminal that takes him to Rapture.[28]

Jack is contacted by Atlas via radio, and is guided to safety from the Splicers and the perils of the run down . Atlas requests Jack's help in stopping Ryan, directing him to a bathysphere where he claims Ryan has trapped his family. When Jack encounters a wandering Little Sister and its fallen Big Daddy, Atlas urges Jack to kill the Little Sister to harvest her ADAM for himself; Dr. Tenenbaum overhears this and intercepts Jack before he harms the Little Sister, urging him to spare the child and any other Little Sisters he encounters, providing him with a plasmid that would force the sea slug out of her body.[29] Jack eventually works his way to the bathysphere, but Ryan destroys it before Jack can reach it. Enraged, Atlas directs Jack towards Ryan's mansion through Ryan's army of Splicers and Big Daddies. At times, Jack is forced to travel through areas controlled by Ryan's former allies that have now become deranged, such as Sander Cohen, a former musician that now takes enjoyment in watching the death and misery of others.

Ultimately, Jack enters Ryan's personal office, where Ryan is patiently waiting for Jack by casually playing golf. Ryan explains that Jack is his illegitimate child, taken from his mother by Fontaine who placed him out of Ryan's reach on the surface, and genetically modified to age rapidly. Fontaine had planned to use Jack as a trump card in his war with Ryan, bringing him back to Rapture when the time was right; Jack's genetics would allow him to access systems such as the bathysphere that Ryan had locked out long ago. Ryan accepts his death by his own free will, and asks Jack "would you kindly" kill him with the golf club which Jack is compelled to do. As Ryan dies Jack becomes aware that the phrase "would you kindly" has preceded many of Atlas' commands as a hypnotic trigger; a flashback reveals Jack himself was responsible for crashing his plane near the bathysphere terminal after reading a letter containing the trigger phrase. Atlas reveals himself at Fontaine, having used the Atlas alias to hide himself while providing a figure for the lower class to rally behind. Without Ryan, Fontaine takes over control of Ryan's systems, and leaves Jack to die as he releases hostile security drones into Ryan's locked office.

Jack is saved by Dr. Tenenbaum and the Little Sisters who had previously been rescued. Dr. Tenenbaum helps Jack to remove Fontaine's conditioned responses, including one that would have stopped his heart. With the help of the Little Sisters, Jack is able to make his way to Fontaine's lair to face him. Fontaine, being cornered by Jack, injects himself with a large amount of ADAM, becoming an inhuman monster. Jack is aided by the Little Sisters in draining the ADAM in Fontaine's body and eventually killing him.

Bioshock 2

_BioShock 2_ takes place in Rapture in 1968, 8 years after the events of the first game. Tenenbaum has briefly returned to Rapture once she realizes that someone is continuing her work by enslaving new Little Sisters. In 1958, Subject Delta (the fourth Big Daddy created) is forced to commit suicide by Sofia Lamb through the use of a mind-controlling plasmid. This was done in part because Delta's Little Sister, Eleanor, is actually Lamb's daughter. Lamb was originally brought to Rapture to help psychologically-stressed citizens of the underwater city cope with the lack of sunlight and used persuasion to entice her patients into a cult called "The Rapture Family", and attempted to spread her altruistic ideals throughout Rapture. Andrew Ryan discovered this through a mole, Stanley Poole, and had Lamb thrown in prison leaving Eleanor in the care of Grace Holloway. Eleanor eventually confronted Poole about his betrayal of her mother. Poole panicked, kidnapping Eleanor and leaving her in a Little Sister's Orphanage, eventually leading to her conversion into a Little Sister. Lamb later returned to the city, reclaimed her daughter from Delta, and gained control of Rapture after Ryan's death. Lamb guided the development of the aging Little Sisters into more dangerous Big Sisters and sent them out to the Atlantic coastline to kidnap little girls for conversion into new Little Sisters in Rapture.[12]

In 1968, Eleanor, now a teenager, has gained control over many of the Little Sisters and uses them to revive Subject Delta at a Vita Chamber. Delta is drawn towards Eleanor by their past Big Daddy-Little Sister connection. Brigid Tenenbaum encounters Delta, and explains that unless Delta reunites with Eleanor, a fail-safe device will trigger that will put Delta into a coma. With the help of the Little Sisters under Eleanor's control and Tenenbaum's ally, Augustus Sinclair, Delta makes his way towards Lamb's stronghold, encountering both Poole and Holloway en route. As Delta progresses, it becomes clear that Lamb is seeking to use ADAM to transform Eleanor into a perfect embodiment of her altruistic ideals. Lamb's ultimate goal is to have the collected minds and memories of everyone in Rapture become a part of Eleanor through the use of the genetic memory in ADAM, thus making her an "Embodiment of the Family" which Lamb believes will put an end to "The Self".

Delta arrives at a containment chamber where Eleanor is held, but Lamb captures him and severs his bond with Eleanor by temporarily stopping her heart. Though Eleanor survives, Delta is now slowly dying as the bond cannot be re-established. Eleanor uses a Little Sister to bring Delta a plasmid which allows him to control the Sisters thus enabling him to bring Eleanor a completed Big Sister suit, and allowing Eleanor to become a Big Sister. Eleanor then escapes with it, rescues Delta, and together they head for an escape pod that Sinclair has arranged to leave Rapture. The two find that Lamb has converted Sinclair into a Big Daddy, and Delta is forced to finish him off. After a final climactic showdown with the remnants of The Rapture Family, Eleanor and Delta make it to the escape pod but a final trap set by Lamb mortally wounds Delta and starts to send the entire building into the deep ocean rift. Eleanor teleports out of the explosion to the rising escape craft, while Delta manages to grab onto the side of the escape pod and climb to its top as it rises.

The ending depends on how the player interacted with the Little Sisters, and the fates of non-player characters Holloway, Poole and Alexander within the game. If Delta rescued all of the Little Sisters then Eleanor will absorb his personality and memories and leave Rapture with the Little Sisters to change the world for the better. If Delta harvested all of the Little Sisters then Eleanor will absorb Delta's personality and become bent on world domination, as the corpses of Rapture's inhabitants float to the surface. If Delta rescued some and harvested some then the player is given a choice, either Eleanor can absorb his personality and become evil, or Delta can refuse her offer and die, in which case Eleanor will mourn his death and make her own way in life. In each of these endings, Eleanor can save Sofia Lamb or allow her to die, depending on whether the player spared or executed Holloway, Poole and Alexander.


	2. Plasmids

Plasmids for Idiots

Here is a list of the Plasmids and Gene Tonics found in Bioshock 2. Except for Telekenesis, Harry has them all fully upgraded. Any Tonic that affects the drill will instead affect Harry's knife.

Harry has access to all Plasmids, and any reasonable Tonic. He can consciously control his Tonics, meaning that he won't accidentally turn invisible every time he stands still for more than three seconds. Hacking Tonics are obviously useless he returns to Rapture, which I don't anticipate any time soon, so I may decide that they work on all muggle technology.

Harry will have a limited amount of Eve, but his magic will allow him to recharge it. The stronger he gets in magic, the faster it recharges.

If I decide that he's overpowered, I may change my mind about giving him unlimited access to all of the Plasmids and Tonics. At the moment, though, it seems unreasonable that a person would only be able to use a few of them, so I'm not going to do that.

This list, by the way, is copied from multiplay erblog. mtv 2010/02/ 03/exclusive-bioshock-2- guide-every-plasmid -and-tonic- revealed/

Plasmids are the equivalent of magic in the world of Rapture. Using "eve," you can unleash all sorts of interesting attacks right from the palm of your hand. Many of the plasmids from the first "BioShock" return in the sequel, but they've all been given interesting enhancements. Most plasmids can be purchased at the Gatherer's Garden vending machines, while some will be given to you throughout the story.

Electro Bolt

Level 1 – Fire lightning from your hand. Shoot water to cause it to become electrified, killing enemies standing in it.

Level 2 – Charge up a lightning attack and release it. Lightning will arc to multiple enemies.

Level 3 – Charge up to fire an extended beam of lightning (think "Ghostbusters"). Also, every non-charged shot will cause lightning to arc between enemies.

Telekinesis

Level 1 – Pick up objects and dead enemies and use them as projectiles.

Level 2 – Pick up heavier objects and do more damage with thrown projectiles.

Level 3 – Pick up all moveable objects as well as living creatures (!) like splicers.

Security Command

Level 1 – Throw a ball of energy which will cause security cameras, turrets and bots to attack anything targeted.

Level 2 – Charge up to summon up to two friendly security bots.

Level 3 – Charge up to summon boosted security bots.

Incinerate!

Level 1 – Throw a ball of fire, igniting a single targeted enemy. Set oil slicks ablaze, dealing fire damage to anyone standing nearby.

Level 2 – Charge up a fire attack and release it. A fire bomb will be unleashed, igniting multiple enemies at once.

Level 3 – Charge up for a flamethrower attack. Also, every non-charged shot will be an area-effecting fire bomb.

Scout

Level 1 – Become an invisible scout who can move throughout the world without threat of attack. You can fire plasmids, but you'll have to return to your physical body (which remains in place) to progress.

Level 2 – While scouting, you're also able to hack security and vending machines.

Winter Blast

Level 1 – Throw a ball of ice, freezing foes for a brief period.

Level 2 – Charge up and attack to freeze a foe in a solid block of ice. They remain frozen for longer and can be used as a telekenisis projectile.

Level 3 – Charge up for a beam of ice attack. Also, single shots cause enemies to become a solid block of ice.

Hypnotize

Level 1 – Throw a ball at a splicer to enrage it, causing it to attack anything nearby (including you).

Level 2 – Charge up and hit a targeted splicer to make it an ally for a few minutes. The splicer will follow you around and fight for you.

Level 3 – Charge up and hit a Big Daddy to make him friendly for a few minutes.

Cyclone Trap

Level 1 – Set a proximity trap on the ground. Enemies that walk over it will be thrown high in the air and land hard, causing damage.

Level 2 – Traps can now be charged with attack plasmids like fire, ice and electricity, dealing specific kinds of damage.

Level 3 – Traps can be placed on walls and ceilings.

Insect Swarm

Level 1 – Send a swarm of bugs and home in on an enemy, causing damage.

Level 2 – A single swarm can now attack multiple enemies.

Level 3 – Enemies killed by swarms will become proximity swarm bombs. Enemies that walk over the hive corpse will be attacked by the swarm.

Decoy

Level 1 – Create a decoy of yourself, distracting enemies.

Level 2 – Decoy will reflect damage back at enemies.

Level 3 – Decoy will reflect damage and heal the player as it takes damage from enemies.

TONICS

Tonics are boosts that you can equip to give your character certain passive abilities. In "BioShock 2" you're able to unlock around two dozen tonic slots by the end of the game, so you're able to mix and match a whole host of different effects at once. Also keep in mind that tonic effects will stack on top of each other. Most tonics can be purchased at the Gatherer's Garden vending machine, while others can be found throughout the world of Rapture or can be unlocked by using the research camera on enemies.

Security Tonics

Hardy Machines – Friendly turrets and bots have more health.

Handyman – Repair damaged bots and turrets with a small eve cost. Also gives random names to friendly bots and turrets.

Deadly Machines – Friendly turrets and bots deal more damage.

Machine Buster – Increased damage against turrets and bots.

Short Circuit – Security is disabled for longer when hit with electricity.

Short Circuit 2 – Security is disabled permanently when hit with electricity.

Shorten Alarms – Shorter alarms (natch).

Shorten Alarms 2 – Even shorter alarms.

Security Evasion – Cameras and turrets take longer to see you.

Vending &amp; Hacking Tonics

Vending Expert – Reduced prices in vending machines.

Vending Expert 2 – Further reduced prices in vending machines.

EZ Hack – Hacking success zones become a little larger.

Careful Hacker – Hacking needle moves slower.

Careful Hacker 2 – Hacking needle moves even slower.

Quik Hack – Hacking has fewer stages.

Thrifty Hacker – Hacked vending machines have even lower prices.

Hacker's Delight – Earn some health and eve when you hack something.

Hacker's Delight 2 – Earn more health and eve when you hack something.

Hurried Hacker – Landing in the blue bonus zone ends a hack instantly.

Vitality Tonics

Fountain of Youth – Gain health and eve when standing in puddles of water.

Sports Boost – Move slightly faster.

Booze Hound – Drinking alcohol increases eve instead of decreasing it.

Eve Saver – Plamids use less eve.

Eve Saver 2 – Plasmids use even less eve.

Eve Link – Using a first aid pack also gives you some eve.

Extra Nutrition – Get more health from bandages and snacks.

Medical Expert – Carry 1 more first aid kit.

Cure All – Health stations also refill eve when used.

Eve Expert – Carry one more eve hypo.

Defense Tonics

Armored Shell – Reduces physical damage taken.

Armored Shell 2 – Further reduces physical damage taken.

Natural Camouflage – Become invisible when standing still for a few seconds.

Elemental Tonics

Elemental Storm – Emit a random burst of fire, ice or electricity when hit with a melee attack.

Fire Storm – Emit a burst of fire when hit with melee attack.

Electrical Storm – Emit a burst of electricity when hit by melee.

Elemental Vampire – Level 3 plasmid streams (like flamethrower or electric beam) siphons enemy health to you.

Electric Flesh – Take no electricity damage and deal more electricity damage to enemies.

Walking Inferno – Take less damage from fire, inflict more fire damage on enemies.

Ice Storm – Emit burst of ice when hit with melee attack.

Melee Tonics

Drill Vampire – Gain health and eve when attacking with the drill.

Drill Power – Drill does more damage.

Drill Power 2 – Drill does even more damage.

Freezing Drill – Freeze enemies for longer, drill is able to freeze enemies.

Drill Specialist – Significantly decreases eve cost of plasmids, but you're limited to only using the drill, camera and hack tool as weapons.

Drill Lurker – Quiets footsteps and increases damage on unaware enemies, especially when using the drill.

Projectile Tonics

Headhunter – Headshots do more damage to enemies.

Loot Tonics

Scrounger – When searching for loot, you can search again to find more in the same container.

Arms Race – More ammo found on bodies and containers.


	3. Welcome to Rapture

A note from Me: I'm fully aware that nobody in the history of always has ever managed to finish a single Harry Potter fanfic. That's why I originally decided that I'd have nothing to do with the damn things. However, there's too much fun you can have with that universe. Whether you're writing a crossover with a totally new scenario, following the original story but with a new element added, or writing a "For the lack of a nail" story, there's all sorts of things you can do. Unfortunately, I am only human, so I will, without a doubt, lose interest in this story. Hell, I'm already getting bored. Next: any bad science is wholly the fault of whoever was actually responsible for Bioshock (I'm not sure which company that is- there are like eight logos at the beginning of the game), because I'm just trying to explain their setting. So there. Any typos are solely my fault, because I'm typing this with my eyes closed, because I feel like it.

By the way, if any Brits are reading this, I could use a bit of help. I know nothing about Britishland, other bits and pieces from books and TV. Which, sadly, is more than most Americans know. Most of us only know bits from TV. Anyway, I'll need locations, slang, foods, culture, crap like that. If any of you are Britishlanders, or are knowledgable on Britishland, please PM me.

Oh yeah- I own two things with regards to this story- Harry Potter and Bioshock. No, not really. I own the laptop and Jason. That's not nearly as awesome a combination.

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INSERT THEME MUSIC! (You'll have to write it yourself, though.)

Harry was excited. He was going to the beach! Ms. Figg had caught a cold, so she couldn't take care of him, and Aunt Marge wouldn't have anything to do with him unless she could help it, which meant that, much to the Dursley's chagrin, they had to take him on their day trip to Brighton Beach.

He was actually bouncing in his seat for the first thirty minutes of the drive, until Uncle Vernon turned around and boxed his ears, yelling at him to "Sit still or else, boy!" After that he settled down a bit, but even this abuse couldn't completely stifle his excitement. He was, after all, four years old, and children of that age are notoriously hyperactive.

The drive was fairly short, but seemed hideously long to Harry, who simply couldn't wait to get there. Also, Dudley was giving him a noogie for the entire ride. When they arrived at the beach, Dudley finally released him and burst out of the car, running towards the beach as fast as his fat little legs could carry him. Which wasn't all that fast, but was highly amusing to watch. As Harry stood there chuckling at his cousin, Uncle Vernon picked him up by the shirt and gave his usual warning of "No funny business, understand, boy?", to which Harry gave his usual response of "Yes, Uncle Vernon."

Harry wasn't sure what kind of thing his uncle was talking about, but every time they went somewhere, he got this same warning. If Harry ever asked what Uncle Vernon meant, his ears would be boxed, and Uncle Vernon would shout at him "Don't ask questions, boy!"

**By the way, I just noticed that my eyes have been open this entire time. As of the end of this sentence, I'm getting a blindfold. :)**

Harry shrugged and ran to the beach, hoping to avoid Dudley. He swam out into th water, clutching his floaty tightly, when something grabbed his lg. He screamed, when Dudley appeared beside him, laughing.

"Don't DO that!" Harry shouted.

"Why not? Dudley responded, "What are yYOU going to do about it?"

Harry tried to think of a response to this, but couldn't, so he simply trid to swim away. Dudley, however, had other ideas. H grabbed onto Harry's leg and yanked downward, causing harry to scream and start flailing wildly. Vernon lauughed,, which encouraged Dudley to give another yank, pulling Harry under the water again.

Harry was trrified. He couldn't breathe. Dudley wouldn't let go of him. He could hear the Dursleys laughing, could feel his lungs tighten as they gasped desperately for air and instead found water, and couldn't stand it. Suddenly, there was a loud _crack_, And Harry was gone.

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"So, professor, I think..." The man was interupted by a loud whistling noise.

Dumbledore looked startled, and pulled a small dvice from hhis pocket, glanced at it, and said, "I'm sorry, Minister Bagnold, but it seems I have something of an emergency. I must be off at once."

The woman he was adressing appeared rather startld by this statement, and another man said, "Now look here, Dumbledore. You can't just _leave _like that. What could be so..."

"It concerns the safety of one Harry James Potter, Mister Fudge," Dumbledore said calmly.

At this, the man jumped, and said, "My God, man, what are you still here for? Explanations can wait! Go ahead and do whatever you need to, by all means!"\

Minister Bagnold loiookd at Fudge, silencing him, before turning to Dumbledore. "Certainly, Professor Dumbledore. Plaes see to the safety of Mr. Potter."

At that, Dumbledore noddd and, with a loud _crack,_ disapparated.

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Vernon started as suddenly, there was another crack and an old man with a spectacularly long beard and a spectacularly hideous purple and yellow robe appeared next to him, only a moment after Harry had vanished.

**Okay, screw this. I'm opening my eyes again. Thor's nuts, that was annoying.**

"Where is Harry?" the old man said immediately.

"Who the bloody hell are you?" Vernon roared, hoping to get the man on the defensive before he could start making accusations.

"I am Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. Now, _where is Harry?_" he asked sharply.

"We don't know," Petunia answered, "Dudley was playing with him, then there was a loud crack, just like when you appeared, and the boy vanished."

Dumbledore looked at her over his half moon spectacles. "And what, exactly, were they doing?" he asked, looking her directly in the eyes.

"They were... playing in the water." Petunia said. She had the strangest feeling, though, that Dumbledore was looking right _through _her, and that he knew _exactly_ about how her little Duddeykins had been horsing around while the little brat screamed as if he'd actually been scared.

"I see," said Dumbledore. The old man then turned to the spot in the water where Dudley was sitting. He whipped out his wand and waved it in a wide circle, then frowned. The magical signature was definitely that of disapparition. Unfortunately, there was no way of knowing where the poor boy had gone to. He could be anywhere in the world.

Dumbledore turned to the Dursleys.

"I will be contacting you shortly," he said simply, before disapparating.

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Harry looked around him. This place was _scary. _Walls were crumbling, furniture was broken, and it was very dark. As he stared at his new surroundings, he saw two men, both wearing masks, approach him.

"Hey... look at this," one of them said, "I think we found our dinner."

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The splicer looked at the little boy curiously. The kid _did _look tasty. So why did he feel like there was something wrong with that idea? There was something he couldn't remember... something from before... Then, in a flash, it hit him. David. Sarah. His _family. _This boy was about the age David had been before... something. God, this was infuriating. He couldn't _remember. _But whatever it was, he knew that he couldn't eat this boy, and he couldn't let... whatever-his-name-was eat him, either. Just as whatever-his-name-was was about to strike the boy with his chunk of pipe, the splicer raised his pistol and shot him through the head.

His earstwhile companion collapsed, and the boy screamed. The splicer shuddered. That scream... It was just like David's when his home had been attacked by splicers. _That was what happened,_ the splicer thought, and suddenly it all came back to him. His family, his life, ADAM, splicing up to survive and to kill the bastards who'd attacked his home... everything.

"Calm down, buddy," Jason (he couldn't remember a last name_) _said to the little boy, "Everything's gonna be okay."


	4. Rescue?

Disclaimer: Some rich chick owns Harry Potter, and some slightly less rich guy owns Bioshock. Since I'm poor, you can assume that I am neither of these people.

By the way, I'm not sure if I should write this story blind or not. So I've decided to ask you guys. There's a poll on my profile. Vote. You know. If you care. If you don't care, I'd prefer you not vote.

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Dumbledore was excited. It was time, finally time, to find Harry Potter. The boy had been missing for over six years now. The best he'd been able to figure out was that Harry was on some island in the Atlantic Ocean. All of his instruments had pointed in that direction, as had directional spells. Unfortunately, that all he could learn. Any known spells or instruments that were more specific had seemed think Harry was underwater, which was, of course, ridiculous. So Dumbledore had given up on known magical techniques. It had taken three years of research, but he'd finally found a spell that would do the trick. It was extremely powerful- enough so that only seven living (depending on how you defined "living"- Riddle wasn't technically _dead_, after all) wizards could cast it without killing themselves. It used the magical signature of a witch or wizard to home in on them and transport the caster to withing a hundred meters of their location, no matter where it was. The reason it was so incredibly difficult to cast was that it punched, poked, prodded, and wormed its way through and around any wards cast on the target or its area. It could even go through a Fidelius Charm, but Dumbledore hoped that wouldn't be necessary. He doubted that even _he _had the magical power necessary to perform that particular feat. Unfortunately, the spell was not without its limits. Since it locked onto a target's magical signature, it had to wait until that signature was fully formed, which happened on a witch or wizard's eleventh birthday. Which, in the case of Harry Potter, was today. Smiling happily Dumbledore prepared the ritual that would allow him to cast the spell.

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Harry froze. He'd lived in Rapture long enough to recognize a gunshot when he heard one, and that was definitely a gunshot. He didn't recognize the make or caliber, which Dad had been teaching him recently, but it sounded like some small handgun. Carefully, he picked up his small, heavily modified pistol, and looked around. Dad was out gathering supplies, so the place was locked up tight, but it never hurt to be too careful. He crept over to the door and slid back the latch so that he could look through. The camera dad had hacked was functioning, as was the turret, so he should be safe. He closed the latch and sat back down, but didn't put up his pistol. It was his last line of defense if a splicer got through. Low caliber, and modified to provide virtually no kick while still being light enough for an eleven year old to use, it wasn't terribly powerful, but it could put a bullet through the head of most splicers. His other hand crackled with electricity as he readied his Electrobolt so that he could "shock it and shoot it," as his father so aptly put it. Getting out a bottle of the water he and his father had collected for this purpose, he poured it into a small dip in the ground in front of the doorway. The water pooled around the door, and Harry crept into his cubby behind the couch and got out an EVE hypo. If anything came through that door without giving the proper sequence of knocks first, it would be fried, then shot, then hit with every plasmid Harry had.

Dad had been furious when he'd first found out that he'd spliced, Harry remembered. Harry had been seven at the time, and had been so excited that he'd be able to help his father in a fight. Dad hadn't been excited at all. He'd been so angry he'd yelled and shouted until they heard the stomping of a Big Daddy come near, which had quited him down. He'd still been furious at Harry, though. First, Harry had broken Rule Number One- NEVER LEAVE THE HOUSE. Second, Harry had ignored all of his fathers warnings and used a plasmid. Father had tried to tell him about the dangers of splicing- about the addiction that he struggled with to this day, the madness that haunted his mind, and the mutations that forced him to hide behind his mask. But Harr had just been a little boy, and hadn't cared. And because of that, he'd nearly turned into a splicer himself.

He hadn't, though. Father didn't know why, but Harry was just as immune to the negative effects of ADAM as the legendary Jack Ryan or Subject Delta had been. Once this had become obvious, the old splicer had been willing to experiment a little with the things that might help his adopted son survive. They'd done minor things, at first. A tonic to fix his eyes, and one to tame his hair. Just experiments that didn't take much ADAM, to make sure that he was actually immune to the side effects. Once they'd been sure though, Harry had been spliced with everything Dad could lay his hands on. Electrobolt, Incinerate, Telekinesis, Insect Swarm, everything.

Harry quickly came out of his memories as he heard another gunshot, this one a shotgun, by the sound, then crawled farther into his cubby and readied his gun and his plasmids while he waited.

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Dumbledore looked around him. He was in a large room with a glass ceiling and walls, with ruined furniture and carpeting. The room, however, largely escaped his notice. It was the view that caught his attention. For beyond the glass walls was the ocean. Not a beach, but the bottom of the ocean.

"Not so ridiculous after all, I suppose," the old man chuckled. He turned, then started as he found himself looking at what he recognized as a muggle shotgun.

"You have ten seconds to give me a good reason not to blow your damn head off, old man," growled the masked man behind the gun.

"I'm afraid I would have to talk rather faster than any human could understand, if I were to provide an adequate explanation for my presence here within that time limit," Dumbledore said nonchalantly, "However, the fact that I am unarmed should count heavily in my favor."

The masked man responded, "If that's true, how come I heard a gunshot from over here?"

"A gunshot? Ah, yes. I suppose the sound of Aparition does somewhat resemble a gunshot. Put simply, that was the sound of my method of transportation." He was about to continue when another man in a mask, this one carrying a large chunk of lead pipe, came around the corner and spotted them. With a scream, the man raised his pipe and charged. Without hesitation, Dumbledore's interregator turned, shot the man in the chest with his shotgun, and turned back to Dumbledore.

"What kind of transportation could get you here? You're no splicer, and I've not encountered another sane soul here in twenty years, save Harry."

At this, Dumbledore looked up sharply.

"Harry? Harry Potter?" he asked, "Eleven years old, black hair, and a scar on his forehead?"

The man raised his shotgun again. "What do you want with my son, old man?"

"So he's here? Thank god! I was afraid I'd made an error. I thought I'd never see him again."

"What do you want with him?!" the man yelled.

"I want to take him home."

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Jason looked at the old man in front of him suspiciously.

"What do you mean?'" he asked.

"London, England," the old geezer started, "is where Harry lived six years ago before he disappeared without a trace. I have been searching for him through every means at my diposal since that day. And now that I have found him, I hope to convince him to come back with me." The old man looked around, apparently taking in the ruins of Rapture for the first time. "I suppose I should extend that offer to you, as well," the man continued.

Jason lowered his shotgun, head spinning.

"You mean you can get us out of here?" he asked.

"Absolutely. Erm... Where is 'here,' exactly?"

"Hell. You're in Hell."

"Could you be a little more specific?" the old man asked.

Jason sighed. "Forty years ago, this was a city called Rapture. It's at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean."

"Isn't that rather an ironic name for Hell?" the old man asked with a smile.

"It was supposed to be paradise. And for a little while, it was. But things went wrong. I'll tell you the story another time. First, you have to prove that you can get me and my son the fuck out of this place."

"Certainly," said the old man, "If you will permit me, I will Apparate... um, think of it as teleporting... three feet to my left."

Jason nodded, and watched, amazed, as the old man vanished with a crack and appeared, exactly as he'd said, three feet to his left.

"Do you believe me?" the man asked.

"Not quite. I've seen Houdini Splicers teleport farther than that, and they can't get out of the city."

"Very well," said the old man, "What if I were to leave and bring a colleague of mine back?"

Jason considered this. He'd traveled every inch of Rapture over the last forty years, and he was sure that he and Harry were the only _people _left. It was possible, though not likely, that he'd missed one man. It was not nearly as likely that he'd missed two of them. He nodded.

"Very well. I shall be back within the hour," said the old man, who then disappeared.

Jason leaned against the wall, keeping his shotgun trained on the door, and waited.

About forty minutes later, there was another crack and the old man reappeared, this time with a stern looking woman whose grey hair was in a bun.

"May I introduce Minerva McGonagal," said the old man, "And I am Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, by the way."

"I'm Jason." said Frank. **No, not really. If you can't figure out who said that sentence, then you're no longer allowed to read my stories.** "Let's get my son and get the hell out of this place."

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End Chapter. Please review!


	5. Welcome to England

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Bioshock. Well, I own copies of them, but I don't own the rights.

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Harry looked around, quickly taking in everything in sight the way he'd been taught. He was in a smokey, dingy bar, filled with people in robes like the ones Dumbledore and McGonagall were wearing (although less garishly colored than Dumbledore's). Harry couldn't believe it. One moment he'd been in the house in Rapture, then, after what felt like he'd been squeezed through a pipe about an inch thick, he was here.

"Well," said Jason, "that was an interesting experience. Now do you mind explaining where we are, and how the hell you did that?"

"I suppose I should start at the beginning," Dumbledore said, "You see, magic is real..."

Harry listened as the old man told a story about wizards, Dark Lords, of his parents, and of his disappearance six years ago and the panic it had caused. He watched in amazement as Dumbledore turned a teacup into a rat and back again with a wave of his wand. Once the old man had finished his story, Harry sat back and thought about all he had heard.

"So," he said, "I'm a wizard, and you want me to go to a school to learn magic. On top of that, I'm world famous because some psychopath tried to kill me, and I got lucky and he died instead of me. You left me with my abusive relatives. When my cousin tried to drown me, I accidentally teleported myself to Rapture, and you couldn't find me until today. Correct?"

Dumbledore nodded.

"That is the gist of the situation. As for leaving you with your 'abusive relatives,' I apologize. You see, there is a powerful charm on you that keeps you safe for as long as you live with a blood relative. I did not realize that they would be so cruel, and I wanted to keep you safe from Voldemort's followers. Many of them are still free, and they would like nothing more than to kill you for the downfall of their master."

"I suppose," said Jason, "that you're going to insist that Harry stay with his relatives, now that he's back on the surface world?"

"I'm afraid so." The old man sighed, "It is the only way for the charm to continue to protect Harry. It only needs to be for a few weeks each year, however. As long as Harry calls his relatives' residence 'home,' he need not actually stay there the entire time."

"And you want him to spend the rest of the time at this 'Hogwarts?'"

"Not all of it. Harry can spend most of the summer with you, once we get you a proper home. During the school year, he will reside at Hogwarts, though, yes."

Jason looked at Harry.

"It's your choice, son. Do you want to go to this school? And do you want to stay with those bastards?"

Harry considered this for a moment, then had an idea.

"I'll make you a deal," he said to Dumbledore. "You find a way to cure my father from the effects of his splicing, and I'll go to Hogwarts." Jason may have regained most of his sanity, but he still struggled, and he was still hideoulsy deformed. "Furthermore, if you use your magic to cure the other splicers and save them from Rapture, I'll stay with the Dursleys. If they try to hurt me, though, I'm not going to put up with it. I'm not a helpless kid anymore, and I don't plan to let them abuse me the way they did when I was little."

Dumbledore nodded.

"That's perfectly reasonable. I will do everything in my power to cure your father and the 'splicers' still in Rapture. As for the Dursleys, I expect that once they see what you are capable of doing with these 'plasmids' of yours, they will leave you alone for the most part."

"Now that that's settled," Jason said, "what do we do next?"

"The next order of business is to get Harry's school supplies," Dumbledore responded. "Minerva will guide you to Diagon Alley and the shops you need to visit to get your supplies. While she does that, I will take you to Saint Mungo's to see if they can cure you."

"Saint Mungo's?"

"It is the wizarding hospital. It's is staffed by the finest healers in all of Britian. If anybody can help you, it will be them," Dumbledore explained.

Jason nodded, and Dumbledore looked at Professor McGonagall.

"Minerva, I will see you after we have concluded our respective business. Mister Jason, if you will take my hand, we will go to Saint Mungo's immediately.

Jason paused, then turned to Harry.

"Take care, son," he said, "I'll see you soon. And if those Dursley bastard give you any trouble, hit 'em with an electrobolt, got it?"

Harry nodded, and hugged his father. Jason ruffled his hair, and then took Dumbledore's hand. With a crack, they disappeared, leaving Harry alone with Professor McGonagall. The stern looking professor sighed, then turned to Harry.

"Well," she said, "I suppose we should be on our way."

With that, she took Harry's hand and led him through the bar to a small alleyway in the back. As Harry wondered where they were going to go, since the alley was a dead end, the professor drew her wand and tapped a brick on the wall. Harry stared as the wall slid open to form a large archway. Harry followed Professor McGonagall through the archway and into Diagon Alley.

"Now," said McGonagall, "our first stop is Gringotts. We need to get you some money to buy your supplies."

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Harry looked around the shop. After they'd gotten his money from Gringotts (and some strange package from a different vault- Professor McGonagall wouldn't say what it was), they'd gone to Madam Malkin's for his robes, where he'd met a snobbish blonde boy, then to Flourish and Blotts for his textbooks. Next they'd gotten his cauldron, scales, telescope, and potions supplies. After that they'd purchased a large snowy owl from Eeylops Owl Emporium. Now they were finally on their last errand- getting a wand. Harry looked around Ollivanders, wondering where the shopkeeper was. All he could see was piles upon piles of long, thin boxes.

The shop was quiet, dusty, and somewhat spooky. Harry was slightly unnerved.

"Good afternoon," said a voice behind Harry.

Immediately, Harry jumped, turned around, and fired a shot of Electrobolt at his assailant.

The old man staggered and convulsed as electricity coursed through his body, then fell to the ground. Harry stared as he realized that he'd just attacked the shopkeeper. He rushed forward, apologizing profusely, and helped the old man to his feet. To his surprise, the man burst into laughter as soon as he was upright.

"That," he said, "was the finest response I've ever had. I've been doing that to customers for decades, and nobody has ever attacked me like that."

"I'm so sorry, sir," said Harry, "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Don't worry, mister Potter. I deserved it. I should have known better than to try to surprise someone who was raised in Rapture. Now, let's see about getting you a wand, shall we?" the old man, Ollivander, Harry realized, chuckled.

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End chapter. I was going to go throught the whole Diagon Alley trip, but we're all familiar with it. Really, the only thing that would change is Harry's reaction to Ollivander.

Please review!


	6. Explanations

Some notes on Rapture.

In order to explain how Rapture can function for so long after all the citizens have been turned into homicidal maniacs, I am forced to make a few changes from cannon and provide a few explanations. First off, the Big Daddies are still functional. Without any Little Sisters, they are homicidal, and attack anyone they see, but other than that, they go about their duties. Secondly, these duties have been expanded to include more maintanence, and, more importantly, food production.

As for the splicers, I need help with their age. Since it's been forty years since the Fall of Rapture, all of the splicers are gonna be old, probably around sixty or seventy. So the question is this- should the splicers just be old splicers, or do the effects of ADAM slow down the aging process? If ADAM slows down aging process, I will have to come up with an explanation for why Harry's body ages at normal speeds. Or not. He could have the body of, say, a seven year old for the entire series, which _would _be interesting. I'll put up a poll (I like polls. I just found out you can do that, and it's immensly helpful).

I also feel like I owe you an explanation for Olivanders knowledge of Rapture. Put simply, there isn't one. I included that line because I felt it added to the general mystery and strangeness of the character.

Plasmids can be dual wielded, because I can't think of any reason for why they can't be. The only reason they can't in the games is because you're always holding something.

The Telekinesis Plasmid can no longer affect human tissue, because that would be totally broken. If it could, all Harry would have to do to win any fight would be screw around with his opponent's brain.


	7. Meet the Dursleys

If I owned Bioshock, the plot for Infinite wouldn't have been so damned stupid (SPOILER!rant Seriously? Unless I'm greatly mistaken, they prevented the existence of Comstock and Elizabeth altogether, which means that none of the game actually happened. WTF?), and if I'd written Harry Potter, I wouldn't have chosen to only kill the characters that were the coolest. Plus, there wouldn't be so damned many flaws in the story. Anyway, the point is that I don't own shit.

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Harry looked at the door in front of him with determination. Number Four, Privet Drive. He couldn't remember much of the abuse he'd faced at the hands of the Dursleys, but he remembered more than enough. For example, he remembered that they almost never called him anything other than "boy" or "freak." He remembered having his ears boxed whenever he spoke without being addressed first. He remembered sleeping in a box in the cupboard under the stairs. And he DEFINITELY remembered the way they had laughed while Dudley had been drowning him. But things were going to be different now. Then, he'd been a helpless little boy. He was still a little boy, but, with the power of Plasmids, he was far from helpless. Finally, after a long moment and a glance at Dumbledore (Dad was already in Saint Mangoes, or whatever it was called), Harry raised his fist and knocked on the door.

"Hello, how can I..." the man who'd opened the door froze.

"YOU!" he bellowed, looking first at Harry, in his torn and badly repaired clothes, then at Dumbledore, in his pink and purple polka dotted robes. "I thought I'd seen the last of you freaks years ago!"

"Well," Dumbledore responded pleasantly, "I'm afraid you'll have to put up with us a bit more. As you can see, Harry has finally been relocated. He will be spending the school year at Hogwarts, and most of the rest of the year will be spent with his adoptive father, but the charm that I mentioned in my first letter to you is still in place, as are the enemies that I also mentioned. As such, if Harry, and, for that matter, your family, is to be safe from those who wish him harm, he will have to stay with you for a minimum of thirteen days each year. For this year, he shall be staying with you until the school term begins, as his father will likely still be in the hospital. In future years, he will spend the first thirteen days of each summer with you. After that time is up, he may stay wherever he wishes."

Vernon Dursley scowled.

"I won't have it," he said, "I should have refused the boy in the first place, and now that he's gone, I want nothing to do with him."

"I'm afraid that isn't an option," said Dumbledore, rather less pleasantly. "Harry WILL be staying with you for thirteen days a year. I trust that you will treat him well in that time."

With that, and a _crack_, the old man disappeared.

Vernon looked at the spot where Dumbledore had disappeared, and then at Harry.

"Now that the old crackpot's gone, there's nothing to make me keep you here," he sneered nastily. "Be off with you, boy."

"If you don't let me in," Harry responded, "then your neighbors will be very curious as to why there is a strange boy hanging outside your yard. If they ask, I would be perfectly happy to explain the circumstances to them. I'm sure the police would find it especially interesting, seeing as you're still technically my legal guardians. They would be even more interested to hear about my disappearance in your care, which I assume you never reported."

At this, Vernon paled, and his mustache bristled as if it were a large caterpillar that had just been disturbed.

"Fine," he said after a moment, "get in the house. We were just about to sit down to dinner."

"Good, I'm starving," Harry said, and brushed quickly past his uncle. He looked around, and, spotting the kitchen, walked in ahead of his uncle.

"Hello Aunt Petunia, hello Dudley," he said to his gaping relatives as he sat down, "I've come to stay with you for the next month."

As his aunt and cousin stared at him, he helped himself to a cheeseburger from a platter in the middle of the table.

"What do you think you're doing, boy?" said Uncle Vernon, who had finally caught up with him.

"I'm eating dinner."

"You will not eat with us. You will go to your cupboard and stay there. I will bring you something to eat later."

"No," Harry responded simply, and took another bite out of his cheeseburger.

"WHAT DID YOU SAY TO ME?!" yelled Uncle Vernon, who raised his hand and struck Harry.

This was exactly what Harry had been waiting for. Some form of abuse to which he could retaliate. He didn't see any reason to harm the Dursleys, but he wanted to make it clear to them that it was within his power to do so if need be.

Immediately after his uncle's hand touched his face, Harry hit him with a bolt of lightning from his Electrobolt Plasmid. As Dudley and Aunt Petunia stared, he rose from his chair and turned to Uncle Vernon.

"Now listen to me, _uncle" _Harry said the word as if it were a particularly nasty obscenity, "I've spent the past eleven years living in pain and fear. Four years from your abuse, and six from Rapture's. I intend to put an end to that now. The nature of my mother's charm may require me to stay in your house, but it does _not _require me to put up with your abuse. As of today, you will never touch me again. You will treat me as a guest in your house. I will stay in your spare bedroom, go where I please, and eat the same food as you do. Since you are my legal guardian," he smirked at this bit, "you will also provide me with fitting clothes. We will go shopping for them tomorrow. If you try to hurt me, I will kill you. Do you understand?"

Vernon looked at his nephew, and tried to find the helpless little boy he'd abused so long ago. Eyes blazing, crackling electricity in one hand, burning flames in the other, there was little resemblance. Weakly, Vernon nodded.

"Good," said Harry, before quickly finishing his cheeseburger. "I'll go to bed now. I'll find my room on my own."

With that, he walked out of the room, leaving his terrified relatives in the kitchen to discuss what had just happened.

He slept soundly that night, not even waking when his uncle triggered one of the cyclone traps he had put by the door out of habit.

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Harry woke late the next day to an unfamiliar, but awesome, smell. He quickly got out of bed and got dressed, idly noting the missing cyclone trap by the door as he pulled on his pants.

"Good morning," he said pleasantly as he walked into the kitchen. Aunt Petunia gave him a terrified glance from the stove, where she was frying what Harry would soon learn was bacon, then returned to her cooking. Dudley wimpered as Harry sat next to him, causing Harry to smirk.

They shared a quiet breakfast, during which the Dursleys were painfully careful not to brush up against Harry, or even look him in the eyes, lest he take offense.

"By the way," Harry said, after dinner was finished, "which one of you tried to go into my room last night?"

No one answered, but Uncle Vernon shifted slightly. Noticing this, Harry turned to him.

"Don't try to sneak up on me while I'm asleep, uncle. Ever." Harry said simply, then got up and went to the living room to watch tv.


	8. Welcome to Hogwarts

dccccccccccccccccfy67777777777777, according to my sister's cat.

Also, I appreciate the enormous response my poll got. That was very helpful. (I'm being sarcastic. I got three votes.) Because of the poor response, I just made the choice myself. ADAM will slow down the aging process by roughly one half, but not the _growth _process, which Chris678 was kind enough to remind me is a completely different biological process. Next issue- in the books, if you do the math, Hogwarts only has about two hundred students. I will be expanding on that drastically in order to make Hogwarts a decent sized school. There will be far more characters than there were in cannon.

By the way, I've decided to tweak Telekinesis even more. It can no longer affect attended objects; in other words items that are being held or used by somebody. He can't just take somebody's wand out of their hand, he can't jerk them around by using Telekenesis on their clothes, nothing like that. I may make even more changes- outside of a video game, where you can limit the ability severly, telekenesis is a hideously overpowered ability.

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Harry leaned back into his seat on the Hogwarts Express. The platform had been easy enough to find, thanks to Dumbledore's instructions, and Harry had gotten there early enough to get a compartment of his own. He smiled, and opened his book. Books, he'd discovered, were wonderful things. There'd been very few books in Rapture, and even less time to read them, so he'd only learned the basics on how to read. In the month since his return to the surface, he'd made it a point to learn to read as well as possible, knowing that it would be a very important ability once he got to school. This had led to the discovery of science fiction novels, which Harry found to be fascinating. At the moment, he was reading a book called _Dune. _He had just been swallowed by the book when the door to the compartment opened. A round faced boy with brown hair entered, carrying a cage with a toad in one hand, pulling a trunk behind him.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" the boy asked.

Harry shook his head. "Not at all."

"Thanks," said the boy, taking a seat. "I'm Neville Longbottom, by the way."

"I'm Harry." Harry didn't include his last name. Dumbledore had explained that he was extremely famous, and Harry had no desire to open that particular can of worms just yet.

"Nice to meet you Harry."

"It's nice to meet you as well."

They were silent for a little while, until the trolley came by. At this point, Harry and Neville both purchased a large supply of sweets. This began a discusion on the kinds of muggle sweets Harry had indulged in over the past month, and eventually the various aspects of the lives of muggles and wizards in general. As Neville was explaining the charm that allowed owls to find the person their letter was addressed to, the train lurched slightly and began to slow down.

"It looks like we're nearly there," Neville said. "We should probably start changing into our uniforms."

Harry agreed, and they got dressed.

As they watched out the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of the Castle through the rain that had started at some point, Neville asked, "What house do you think you'll be in? My whole family's always been in Gryffindor, but I'm not brave enough for it. I'll probably be stuck in Hufflepuff." He seemed gloomy at this thought.

"What's wrong with Hufflepuff? According to Dumbledore, Hufflepuff's values are loyalty and hard work. That sounds like a decent house to me. It's definitely better than just being smart, like Ravenclaws."

"I suppose that makes sense," said Neville, somewhat relieved, and they got out of the train together.

As they clambered out of the train into the pouring rain, they heard a call of "Firs' years! Firs' years over here!"

They looked, and saw an enormous man, twice as tall and three times as wide as a normal human, with a huge, shaggy beard.

"C'mon, firs' years to me! Any more firs' years? Firs' years! Follow me!"

They hurried to follow the giant and the other first years away from the train.

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_"Oh you may not think I'm pretty,_

_But don't judge on what you see,_

_I'll eat myself if you can find_

_A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep your bowlers black, _

_Your top hats sleek and tall,_

_For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

_And I can cap them all._

_There's nothing hidden in your head_

_The Sorting Hat can't see,_

_So try me on and I will tell you_

_Where you ought to be._

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_

_Where dwell the brave at heart,_

_Their daring, nerve, and chivalry_

_Set Gryffindors apart;_

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

_Where they are just and loyal,_

_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_

_And unafraid of toil;_

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

_if you've a ready mind,_

_Where those of wit and learning,_

_Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_

_You'll make your real friends,_

_Those cunning folks use any means_

_To achieve their ends._

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

_And don't get in a flap!_

_You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

_For I'm a Thinking Cap!_

The hall burst into applause as the hat bowed to each of the four tables, and then settled back on its stool. Professor McGonogall stepped forward with a long roll of parchment.

"When I call your name," she said, "you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted." She paused, then looked at the parchment. "Abbot, Hannah!"

A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stepped forward and put the hat on her head. After a second, the hat shouted "HUFFLEPUFF!" and the girl got up to join the cheering students at the table on the far right.

Several more students were sorted, and then it was Harry's turn.

"Potter, Harry."

At this, the hall burst into whispers as everyone tried to catch a glimpse of The-Boy-Who-Lived.

Harry saw Neville, who had, in fact, been sorted into Gryffindor, looking at the first year students to see which one was the famous Harry Potter. Neville jumped slightly when Harry stepped forward, and Harry knew he would have to explain himself to his new friend.

He reached the stool and sat down, then placed the Sorting Hat on his head.

_Hmmm, _said a voice in Harry's head, _Interesting. Where to put you? You're fiercly loyal, clever, ruthless, and brave. However, while you are ruthless and cunning, you aren't terribly ambitious, am I right?_

_No, _Harry responded, _I'm not. I just want to live my life._

_That rules out Slytherin, then, _said the Hat. _You also don't strike me as the patient sort, which is an important value for Hufflepuffs, which leaves us with Gryffindor or Ravenclaw. And while you're clever and intelligent, you lack a Ravenclaw's _thirst _for knowledge. So I suppose we'll have to put you in _

"GRYFFINDOR!" Bellowed the Hat to the waiting Hall.

The Great Hall exploded into applause and cheering, with the Gryffindor table cheering the loudest of all by far, and a pair of red-headed twins jumping up and down shouting "We got Potter! We got Potter!"

Harry got up and walked over to the Gryffindor table, where Neville scooted over to make a seat for him.

"Why didn't you tell me you were Harry Potter?" he asked Harry.

"Dumbledore told me how famous I was," he explained. "I wanted to put off the attention for as long as possible."

"I suppose that's fair," said Neville, still looking slightly upset. "I'd hate to have everybody staring at me the way you must get."

Harry nodded, and they settled down to watch the rest of the Sorting.


	9. A Battle of Wits

Harry's Schedule is as follows, courtesy of Wikia. com. I have tweaked the schedule it lists somewhat to take out Xylomancy, which the books never mention, and so that there are no classes on Saturdays, which is the case in the books. I have also altered it to fit some of the details given to us in the books. This means that some classes have been moved around a bit, and some are less frequent than listed on the site.

Monday: Potions, DADA, Charms, Herbology.

Tuesday: Charms, History of Magic, Herbology, Transfiguration,

Wednesday: Potions, Herbology, Flying, Magical Theory

Thursday: Charms, Transfig., HoM, Magical Theory,

Friday: Double Potions, Double Transfiguration.

As you may have guessed, I'm something of a cannon freak. I like for as many details to fit what's described in the book as possible.

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The next day was the first day of classes. After breakfast in the Great Hall, Harry, Neville, and the other Gryffindors headed to the dungeons for their first Potions class. They got there to find that the Slytherins were already seated and waiting for them.

As they entered the room, Snape sneered and said "It's about _time _you got here. Class has nearly started."

Harry glanced at his watch. It was 7:45.

"I think your clock must be wrong, professor," he said politely. " It's a quarter to eight. Class doesn't start for another fifteen minutes."

Snape glared at him. "My clock is not wrong, _Potter, _and you should be more respectful. Ten points from Gryffindor for disrespecting a professor."

"I wasn't disrespectful, Professor Snape. I simply told you the correct time. Disrespect would be saying that you are a bigoted idiot who has no right to teach. I would never say something like that to Hogwarts' esteemed Potions Master, of course, though."

Snape stared at Harry, along with all of the students.

"What did you just say to me, Potter?"

"I gave an example of something that would be extremely disrespectful to say, sir. If a student were to say something like that, then it would be grounds for not only deducting points, but also for detention. Simply stating the time, though, is not disrespectful at all."

Snape scowled. Nobody in the room, with the possible exception of the gorillas, believed for an instant that Harry had simply been "providing an example," but the boy had phrased it in such a way that any punishment would seem unfair, and Snape had no doubt that the boy was waiting for just such a punishment so that he could go to the headmaster.

"Very well," said Snape. "No points will be deducted from Gryffindor. Now take your seat."

The Gryffindors stared at Harry for another moment before sitting in the chairs that were spaced throughout the room in pairs with a cauldron next to each pair of seats.

Snape proceeded to take roll. When he got to Harry's name, he scowled, but did nothing more. After roll, he gave a speech about the beauty and power of potion-making, who's effect was somewhat diminished by his finishing with the word "dunderheads," which caused Harry to smirk.

Snape caught this, and turned to him.

"Do you think this is something to laugh at Potter? That this class will be easy for a celebrity like you? Very well. Let's give you a test. What would you get if you added powdered root of asaphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

"I don't know sir. It wasn't mentioned in the first year potions book."

Snape glowered at him.

"Very well, then. Where would I look to find a bezoar?"

"In the stomach of a goat, sir."

At this, Snape raised an eyebrow.

"So you do know something. Or did you just get lucky? What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Harry racked his brain. He vaguely remembered that this had been specifically mentioned in _1001 Magical Herbs and Fungi,_ but for the life of him he couldn't remember what it had said.

"I don't know, sir."

"Didn't finish our reading, did we? I know for a fact that that question had its own section in one of your textbooks. Five points from Gryffindor for being unprepared for class."

Harry frowned, but couldn't think of a way to avoid getting out of that punishment, so simply nodded and got out his copy of _1001 Magical Herbs and Fungi._

"What do you think you're doing, Potter? This is a class, not a free-reading session."

"I apologize, sir. I was looking for the section you mentioned on monkshood and wolfsbane. I assumed that since you said I was unprepared, the issue would come up in class today."

Snape raised an eyebrow.

"No, it will not come up in class today. I merely meant that you were unprepared for the class as a whole. And for your information, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite."

After this little interaction, Snape waved his wand at the board.

"Today we will be preparing a simple potion to cure boils. Be sure you follow the directions."

With that, he swept away from his desk and into his office.

They set to work preparing their potions, getting ingredients from a cupboard in the corner. Harry took the opportunity to place a Cyclone Trap behind Snape's desk while he got his supplies, hoping he'd get to see when it went off, then he went to work making his potion with Neville. Neville was hideously forgetful, and kept trying to put the ingredients in the cauldron in the wrong order. Harry taught him to check the instructions carefully before picking up an ingredient, then again before weighing it, again before crushing, slicing, dicing, or stripping it, and one last time before actually adding it. By checking so carefully, they were able to avoid disaster.

Snape didn't come out of his office during class, much to Harry's disappointment, so they agreed that the best course of action would be to leave a vial of their potions on his desk with their names on them. Harry also took an extra vial of his potion with him, knowing that Snape would "lose" his vial.

As the students filed out of the class, a pretty girl with dark plaited hair came up to Harry.

"That was brilliant, Harry!" she said, "I've heard stories about Snape before, and I doubt anybody's ever gotten the better of him the way you did. I can't believe you insulted him to his face and got away with it!"

"Well, _technically_, I didn't insult him. I just told him what _would _have been an insult. He couldn't punish me for that." Harry grinned.

"Yes, but we all knew what you meant," the girl said. "I'm Parvati Patil, by the way."

"I'm Harry," he said, even though she obviously already knew who he was, "and this is Neville Longbottom."

"It's nice to meet you both," replied Parvati, as they left the dungeons to go to their Defense Against the Dark Arts class.

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Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I definitely enjoyed writing it. I'm gonna have a lot of fun with Snape in this fic. Please leave a review! I love feedback- it tells me I'm doing something right (or wrong), and motivates me to write more.

By the way, I'm looking for fics along the lines of the "Harry gets guns" theme. The only one I've been able to find so far is "Old Soldiers Never Die." If you know of any others, please let me know. I'm also looking for stuff where the muggles help in the war against Voldemort. PLEASE tell me if you know of any like this- I can't find ANY, and it's driving me nuts.


	10. A Frosty Encounter

The next few weeks flew by quickly for Harry. When he wasn't in class, he spent most of his time exploring the castle. It was huge, even bigger than it looked from the outside (which was saying something), and had all sorts of secret passages and hidden rooms. In his second week, Harry found a passageway that ran from the Great Hall to the Potions dungeon, his first class of the day on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. This was extremely helpful, because Snape loved to take house points from the Gryffindor students, especially after somebody booby trapped his desk. Once all of the Gryffindor students knew about the passageway, they could go straight from breakfast to Potions class, so Snape couldn't use tardiness as an excuse to take points. Another passage went to Greenhouse One, where the first year Herbology classes took place. More importantly than the fact that it was useful to know his way around the castle, though, was the fact that it was extremely interesting. You never knew which tapestry might have a door behind it, or what door may take you to one place if you turn the handle to the right, and another if you turn it to the left.

One day, while Harry was exploring the castle with Parvati (who had become good friends with Harry and Neville), he came across Malfoy and a group of Slytherins tormenting Neville, who was backed up against the wall, looking at his feet.

"What's the matter, Longbottom?" Malfoy was saying. "Too scared to talk back? Or is it just that you're as bad at talking as you are at magic? Maybe you just need a little motivation? I'm sure Goyle here can come up with a way to get some noise out of you."

As Goyle cracked his knuckles and stepped forward, Harry decided that he'd seen enough. He stepped forward.

"That's enough, Draco," he said.

The Slytherins turned around and eyed Harry and Parvati. There were five of them- Malfoy and his thugs, and a second and third year that Harry didn't know.

"Oh it is, is it?" sneered Malfoy. "Because I think we're just getting started. Now we've got the famous Boy-Who-Lived to play with and his girlfriend, too."

"I'm warning you, Malfoy. Leave now." Harry said, eying the five Slytherins, and taking a step to the left. This placed Malfoy directly between Harry and Neville.

"Or what, Potter? What are you going to do to us if we don't leave?"

"This," said Harry, and hit the Slytherins with a Winter Blast,. A cone of frosty air burst from his fingers, freezing everything it contacted. Neville, who was sheltered by Malfoy, felt as if he'd just been struck by a blizzard.

"Come on, Neville. That won't last long, and they'll be pissed as hell when they get out. I'd rather not have to fight them- we'd get in trouble" Harry said to his friend. Neville quickly worked his way around the group of frozen bullies, and joined Harry. They immediatley ran away.

Before they had gone more than ten feet, they noticed that Parvati wasn't with them.

"Parvati, what's wrong?" Harry asked the girl, who was standing exactly where she had been when Harry confronted Malfoy.

"How... how did you do that without a wand? I've never even seen that spell before, and you didn't use a wand! How'd you do that?" she said, staring at the ice covering Malfoy and his cronies. Ice that was beginning to crack.

"I'll explain it in a minute, now _come on!" _Harry said, grabbing her hand and pulling her away from the thawing Slytherins.

Parvati finally turned away, and joined Harry and Neville. They had just disappeared into a hidden tunnel when they heard the cracking of ice, followed by Malfoy's furious yelling.

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Once they made it back to the common room and sat down, Parvati turned to Harry.

"Now, do you care to explain just how you cast that spell without using a wand?" she asked curiously.

Harry shook his head.

"It wasn't a spell. It's not magic at all- it's science."

"What do you mean?" Neville asked.

"I assume you know about how I disappeared for six years?"

Neville and Parvati nodded.

"Well I was living in... a sort of hidden city. In that place, they had these things callled Plasmids. They rewrite your genetic material to whatever you want. It's extremely dangerous, and has horrible side effects like insanity and mutations, but for some reason I'm immune to the nastier side of Plasmids." Harry explained.

"What's genetic material?" Parvati asked. Neville nodded-he didn't understand either.

"Oh. It's..." Harry paused, trying to figure out how to explain the concept, "Basically, your body is made up of millions of tiny things called cells. Plasmids rewrite the instructions for those cells, causing them to do different things than they normally would."

"So, can you do other things?" Neville asked.

Harry nodded. "I can throw fireballs and lightning, I can move objects from a distance, I can see things in other places, and some other stuff."

"Wow... That's amazing. Could you get us some of these Plasmid thingies?" Parvati asked excitedly.

"NO!" Harry shouted, then froze at the looks on his friends faces. "I'm sorry, it's just that Plasmids are _extremely _dangerous. They almost always drive you insane, and cause horrible disfigurations. My dad used them when he was younger, and lived as a monster for over twenty years. He's better now, and Saint Mungo's is seeing if they can cure him entirely, but they aren't sure. Until somebody knows more about Plasmids and how they work, and why I can use them safely, nobody should ever, ever, _ever _use them. They completely destroyed the city I lived in, and could do the same thing to the entire world if people were to use them before we find a cure for the side effects."

"Okay," said Parvati. "I guess I understand. I just thought it would be cool to be able to throw fireballs and stuff."

"I know," responded Harry, "but it's not cool enough to be worth what happened to my dad." He shuddered, remembering the first time his father had taken off his mask. It was right after Harry had spliced himself for the first time, and his father, in his rage, had torn the mask from his face to show what the effects of splicing could be.

"About that," said Neville, "I thought your father was killed by You-Know-Who when you were a baby. How could he have been living in that city with you?"

"Well, he's not actually my father," Harry explained. "When he found me in the city, he saved my life, and raised me. Now that we've escaped, he's going to legally adopt me."

"Escaped? What do you mean?"

Harry hesitated. He didn't want to give too many details about Rapture. He didn't want _anybody _to be able to find it ever again.

"The city we were in was in ruins. It was extremely dangerous to live in, and was filled with monsters. We couldn't leave, though, because the environment outside was even more dangerous. Nobody, but _nobody,_ could have survived outside of the city, for even an hour, so we had to stay inside. We were trapped until Dumbledore found me."

After this, Harry stood up.

"I'll see you guys in a little bit. I need to talk to Dumbledore."

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Thanks for reading! Tell me what you think!

Seriously. If I don't start getting some damned feedback, I'm gonna stop writing.

Also, remember my request from the last chapter. "Harry gets guns" and "muggles vs Voldemort" stories.


	11. Flying

As time went on, things began to fall into a routine. Avoid sitting next to Ron Weasley at breackfast (his table manners were nauseating), make a fool out of Malfoy, go to class, avoid Ron Weasley again at lunch, go to class, explore the castle with Neville and Parvati, avoid Ron Weasley at dinner, relax in the Gryffindor common room. Around the third week, they found a notice while they were in the final stage of the day's activities. Harry was playing Wizard's Chess with Andrew Little, another first year, when he heard a loud groan coming from the area of the notice board.

"What's up?" asked Harry, without looking away from the chess board.

"We've got flying lessons on Thursday. With the _Slytherins,_" said Ron, sitting down to watch. "You should move that pawn to A5."

Harry looked at him, and very deliberately said "Bishop to F5. What's wrong with that? I've been looking forward to flying lessons. And considering how much you talk about Quidditch, I'd expect you would be, too."

"Yeah, but I don't want to see those slimy gits any more than I have to." Ron grumbled.

"What's wrong, Pawn to D4, with the Slytherins?" asked Andrew.

"They're... they're _Slytherins," _he exclaimed. "There's nothing else to say about it!"

"Just because they were sorted into a different, Pawn to G5, house than we were, we should dislike them?" Harry said.

"No, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs are fine, but Slytherins are all a bunch of prats!"

"So, because they're cunning and ambitious, they're prats?" Harry asked, studying Andrew's move of "Queen to F3."

"No, Slytherins are dark! Everybody knows that!"

Parvati, who had joined the conversation at this point, had a rather strong objection to that comment. "Excuse me," she said sharply, "My father was a Slytherin, and he's not dark."

"Well... erm" Ron spluttered, and walked off in a huff.

"Bigoted idiot," said Andrew. "I've met a few Slytherins. It's really just Draco's crowd that's bad, and they're not really _dark. _They're just nasty, and there are students like them in all the houses. Even Gryffindor has its share of bullies," he finished, looking darkly at Edward Day, a fifth year who was notorious for picking on other students.

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At 3:30 that Thursday, the Gryffindors filed down to meet the Slytherins on the grounds for their first flying lesson.

Neville was extremely nervous- he had never been allowed on a broomstick, and, given his spectacularly clumsy nature, his friends could all understand why. While Harry was helping him relax, a woman with short, gray hair and yellow eyes arrived. She looked at the first years, standing in a cluster (slightly separated by house, but not as much as Ron's beliefs would warrant), and said " I'm Madam Hooch, the flying teacher. Everybody stand next to a broomstick. Come on, hurry up!" gesturing to several rows of broomsticks.

The students hurried to obey, and each student stood with a broomstick to his right (they did divide by house this time, as it was customary to do so during class).

"Now, everybody stick their right hand over their broomstick and command 'UP!'" Madam Hooch instructed.

"UP!" came a chorus of shouts. Harry's broom jumped directly into his hand, as did Draco's and a few others', but not many. Some of them rolled over, some jumed a few inches into the air, and a few, such as Neville's, were doing very good impressions of bricks.

When several minutes had passed and Neville was the last student who's broom hadn't jumped into his hand, and he decided to just bend over and pick up the blasted thing. Madam Hooch sighed and shook her head, but simply proceeded to instruct the students on how to mount the brooms and where to position their hands. Nearly everybody smirked when she informed Draco that the way he'd "been doing it for years" was in fact completely wrong.

"Now when I blow my whistle," called Madam Hooch, "You kick off from the ground hard. Keep your broom steady, rise a few feet, and then lean forward slightly to come back down. On my whistle now, one, two..."

Neville however, in his nervousness, pushed off almost immediately, and went soaring into the air. Harry and his friends watched, dismayed, as Neville shot straight up, face whiter than paper, looked down, gasped, and let go of his broomstick. Before Harry could do anything, Neville hit the ground with an audible _crack! _

Madam Hooch was there in an instant, and, inspecting Neville, she muttered. "Broken wrist. Damn," followed by "Up you go, boy. To the hospital wing with you. Nobody is to move while I take this boy to Madam Pomfrey, understand?" she shouted this last bit loud enough for everybody to hear, glaring at them all as she did so, then half carried, half led Neville back to the castle.

As soon as Madam Hooch was out of earshot, Draco began laughing.

"Did you see the idiot's face? He was terrified out of what little wits he has! I hope every flying lesson is like this."

"Shut it, Draco," said Quinn Grayson, a Gryffindor who had become friends with Harry.

As other students began picking sides, some mocking Neville, others defending them, Draco darted forward.

"Look, it's that stupid thing his grandma sent him!" he said, snatching the Remembrall Neville had gotten in the mail that morning out of the grass.

As he picked up his broom, Harry asked him "What do you think you're doing, Draco?"

"I'm putting this in front of the infirmary window. They don't open, you know. Something about letting allergens in," replied the blonde, kicking off his broom.

"Give it back, Malfoy!" Harry called after him.

Draco paused fifty feet in the air.

"What are you going to do about it, Potter?"

Harry smirked, and his left hand began crackling with electricity. "Don't you remember the last time you asked me that question, Draco? You didn't turn out so well."

Draco froze, and looked at Harry's hand. "Fine, catch it if you can!" he shouted, before throwing the Remembrall as hard as he could.

Immediately, Harry reached out his right hand, and, using his Telekinesis Plasmid, grabbed the Remembrall. The entire class stared as Harry simply brought the small glass sphere to his hand, and then placed it in his pocket.

"What?" he asked the staring students, as if nothing had happened.

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End chapter.

You'll notice a lot of OC's making their appearances now. That's because I've had to add them to make the school a reasonable size. As I said earlier, it's supposed to be huge, but if you do the math, there are only a little over 200 students there. I'm making up the difference by assuming that there are characters that weren't mentioned.

Also, I'm using normal names, not crap like "Neville" or "Hermione" or, God forbid, "Draco." I don't know if these are actual names in Britishland, but I've never heard of any of them. And don't even get me _started _on the teachers. "Minerva McGonagall" and "Severus Snape." Seriously?

Speaking of names, the students, except for Draco, who's an arrogant little prick, will use each others' first names. It never made sense to me that they referred to each other by their last names, especially since they're little kids. If this is some British thing that I'm unfamiliar with, please let me know, and I'll fix it. Otherwise, Draco is the only one who will call people by their last names.

I'm also changing the houses some- it's stupid that anybody who's cunning and ambitious (which gets them put into Slytherin) also happens to be evil. What's even more stupid is the fact that a full quarter of the students at Hogwarts are evil. And it also doesn't make sense that _all _of the bullies get put into Slytherin. You can have smart or brave bullies. In fact, Hufflepuff is the only house I can think of that wouldn't have bullies- I've never met a loyal, patient, hard working bully.


	12. Teaching a Lesson

The next day, when Neville didn't show up for Charms, Harry was slightly worried. According to Parvati, a healer as skilled as Madam Pomfrey should have been able to heal a simple broken wrist in a matter of minutes. Harry decided, however, that she must have been exaggerating, and didn't give the matter any more thought until Neville also failed to show up for Transfiguration. When he missed History of Magic and Magical Theory (not to mention lunch), Harry decided that something must be wrong, and resolved to visit his friend in the infirmary.

When Harry and Parvati arrived at the hospital wing, they were surprised to find it completely empty. Neville was nowhere to be seen. Harry looked around, and, spying a door opposite the one he'd come in through, walked across the room and knocked.

"One second, please," came a woman's voice, shortly followed by the sound of a chair being scooted backwards.

A moment later, a xxx woman opened the door.

"Yes, how can I help you?" the woman asked.

"Madam Pomfrey?" Harry inquired.

"Yes, that's me," answered the healer.

"We've come to check on our friend Neville. He didn't show up for any of his classes today, and we were wondering when he would be out of the infirmary." Harry explained.

Madam Pomfrey looked surprised at this. "The boy with the broken wrist? He left this morning."

"He was?" asked Parvati. "What time? Do you know where he was going to go?"

"It was just before the end of first period. He said he was going to go to his Transfiguration class."

Harry looked at Parvati worriedly and rushed out the door.

"Thank you for your help," Parvatie said to Madam Pomfrey before following Harry. By the time she caught up with him, she was quite out of breath.

"Where... where are we... going?" she gasped.

"To find Neville," Harry explained. "He was headed from the infirmary to the Transfiguration classroom, but he never made it there. Something must have happened to him on his way to class. If we trace the most likely path from here to the classroom, we may be able to figure out what."

"But what if he's not there anymore? Or what if he took a different route?"

"Then we'll have to look harder, now won't we?" Harry said as he turned a corner.

It took some time, but they did eventually find Neville. Their friend wasn't in good shape. He had obviously been hit by a number of jinxes. He was lying on the ground, perfectly still- clearly the result of a Full-Body-Bind curse. That, however, was the least of his symptoms. He had a large pair of antlers sprouting from his head, his nose had tripled in size, he was completely bald, he was covered in hideous boils, and his fingernails were over a foot long. The worst, however, was not the jinxes. Nevilles want lay three feet from his body, snapped in two pieces.

"Oh my god!" gasped Parvati. "What happened?"

"I don't know, but we need to get him back to the infirmary," said Harry before casting the counter curse for the Full Body Bind (the only one of the hexes that Harry recognized).

"Thanks," said Neville, standing up. "I've been lying there for hours. Draco attacked me, along with his goons. He said that I should be more careful not to leaave your sight, and that without you, I'm worthless."

Harry scowled, and turned to Parvati. "Take him to the hospital wing."

"What are you going to do?" she asked apprehensively.

"I'm going to teach Draco what happens when he messes with my friends," Harry replied before he stalked off.

A few minutes later found him in the Gryffindor common room. He looked around briefly until he spotted Fred and George Weasley.

"Where is the Slytherin common room?" he asked them abruptly.

"What?" said one of the two. "Why would you think we would know that?"

"And why do you want to know?" asked the other.

"Because," said Harry calmly, "Everybody knows that you know more about the layout of this school than anybody but Dumbledore. And I want to know because I need to find Draco Malfoy to teach him a lesson."

At this, the twins looked at each other.

"Well, we can't..." started Gred.

"... get you into the common room..." Feorge continued.

"...but we can help you find the slimy little git..."

"...as long as he's outside of it."

"How?" asked Harry.

"We have our ways," Feorge responded.

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Five minutes later, Harry was on his way. It turned out that Draco was sneaking around the forbidden third floor corridor, presumably trying to find out why it was forbidden.

"Hello, Draco," said Harry once he found the blonde boy.

Draco jumped and whirled around, his wand in his hand. Spotting Harry, he relaxed slightly. Then he seemed to realize who he had spotted, and raised his wand again.

"Hello, Potter. I suppose you found your friend Longbottom?" he sneered.

"As a matter of fact, I did," Harry said calmly. "And attacking him was the biggest mistake you've ever made."

As he said this, he his left hand began crawling with bees, and his right began crackling with electricity.

"I'm going to teach you never to mess with my friends again," he continued, before hitting Draco with a small bolt of electricity.

Draco screamed and began convulsing as electricity coursed through his body. As soon as the Slytherin recovered, Harry released a few bees from his left hand. Not enough to cause any serious damage, but enough to cause some serious pain. As a dozen bees flew towards him and began stinging him furiously, Draco screamed again, and ran through the nearest door, slamming it shut behind him. A few moments later, Harry heard an enormous growl, and another scream. The door opened again, and Draco came running out, still followed by a handful of angry bees. The blonde looked at Harry, looked at the door behind him, and bolted. Harry frowned, and released another dozen bees to follow Draco, before approaching the door that Draco had just come through. Wondering what had scared the other boy away, Harry pushed the door open.

Inside was the most enormous dog Harry could ever remember seeing. Coincidentally, it was the _only _dog Harry could remember seeing- there weren't many animals in Rapture. Despite this fact, he was reasonably certain that most members of the species were considerably smaller. And he was _completely _certain that they only had one head. As the dog began growling, Harry slowly closed the door and backed away.

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	13. Laws and Loopholes

By the way, I've been forgetting to explain my decision to replace Ron and Hermione with Neville and Parvate. Hermione is arrogant, and she's not actually that smart- she just memorizes everything she sees, and doesn't really think for herself. She's basically an encyclopedia. Ron is possibly the worst character in the books. He's arrogant, bigoted, ignorant, superstitious, spoiled, and dead stupid. I can't think of a single positive personal quality he has.

Neville, on the other hand, is something of a badass once he gains self confidence, and hanging around with Harry, especially _this_ Harry, is going to help with that. Parviti is something of an airhead in the books, but that isn't shown until later on, at which point she's been hanging out with Lavender Brown for several years. Harry will have a different influence on her-she'll be more serious, less gullible, and generally more intelligent.

If you disagree with my estimation of these characters, please explain why. As I've said before, I'm something of a cannon freak, and I'd like to stick with the original story, I just can't have a character who I dislike as a main character (I seriously considered having Ron get shot in an early chapter, so that I wouldn't have to include the idiot at all, but I just couldn't bring myself to kill off an eleven year old, even just in a story).

By the way, if you have any suggestions or requests for interactions or encounters that you'd like to see, send me a PM. I'm not tailoring my story to the readers, but I do often need ideas. I'm not actually very creative (that's why Protomage hasn't been updated in so long- I need ideas). I'm just writing this for fun, and because all of the creative people seem to be writing for freakin' Naruto and Twilight, not the awesomeness that is Prototype and Bioshock. And anybody who does write for Bioshock writes for Infinite, which sucked. Don't get me wrong, the gameplay was _FANTASTIC, _but I love a good story, and the plot was, in my opinion, horrible. I think I've whined about it before. Ah well. At least it wasn't Mass Effect 3.

Wow. That's a really long author's note. I wonder if I can extend it even more just by talking about how hideously long it is. Apparently, I can. I find this amusing.

You know, there's no point in continuing to read this. I'm just screwing around while I wait for my cousin to get out of the shower so he can proofread. Go on, the actually story is just a few lines below. Stop wasting your time. Move along, move along, nothing to see here. I'm just being an idiot. Why are you still reading this crap? Oh look, he's out. Goodbye, person who was stupid enough to read all of this.

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"Professor Dumbledore is here, Minister." said the sickeningly sweet false-etto of Dolores Umbridge, "Should I show him in?"

"Yes, please," responded Fudge, glancing at his good friend Lucius, (it was such a shame the man was so hated by the wizarding world; it wasn't _Lucius's _fault that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had Imperiused him) who had been waiting for the old professor with him. "I need to talk to him right away."

The toad nodded, and bowed out of Fudge's office.

A few moments later, Dumbledore entered.

Fudge sighed. He wished the old man would at least _try _not to look like a crazy old coot. The world famous Albus Dumbledore, the most powerful wizard in the world, apprentice to Nicholas Flamel himself, Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, was wearing bright red robes with yellow smiley faces all over them. Why couldn't he understand the importance of appearances?

Lucius, apparently, shared the same opinion.

"How was the party, Albus?" he asked mockingly.

Dumbledore looked surprised, and responded with, "It was rather dull, I'm afraid. Minerva simply can't get into the spirit of things, you understand. She's entirely too serious. Filius managed to spice things up a bit, but overall, it was terribly uninteresting. But that was a number of weeks ago, why do you bring it up now?"

"Nevermind," interrupted Fudge, before Lucius could retaliate. "We're here to discuss a rather serious matter, not what parties we may or may not have been to."

"Very well," said Dumbledore, who drew his wand and summoned his usual chintz armchair.

Fudge looked at his notes and began speaking. "According to article four of the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy, any muggle found to be in knowledge of, or possessing evidence of, the existence of wizards, the Wizarding World, or magic in general is to have his memory modified to remove this knowledge, and any and all evidence confiscated. Furthermore, according to clause forty-two, any wizard found guilty of revealing the existence of the wizarding world to a muggle is subject to no less than six months in prison. Ammendment C to the Statute waives both of the previous clauses when in regards to the parents of Muggle-born children." Fudge said this last part rather quickly, as if it were completely irrelevant.

"Professor Dumbledore, is Harry Potter's adoptive father a muggle?" Lucius grinned as Fudge said this.

Dumbledore nodded gravely. "Yes, he is."

"And did you, in full knowledge of both this fact and the related clauses in the Statute of Secrecy, knowingly and willingly tell this muggle of the wizarding world?" Lucius looked positively delighted.

"Yes, I did."

Fudge sighed. "Then I'm afraid that you will have to be tried under the Wizengamot for violation of the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy. The trial will be held on October 12, at eight o'clock in the morning. Furthermore, the muggle in question, by the name of Jason, no last name, is to be have his memory wiped immediately."

"Actually, I'm afraid that last part will not be possible," Dumbledore said, a twinkle returning to his eyes.

"Oh? And why might that be?" snarled Malfoy.

"You see, Jason is currently being held in Saint Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. According to clause seventeen of article four, no muggle currently in the care of magical health professionals is to have his memory wiped until he is fit to leave the care of said professionals. I believe this is to prevent them from needing to be Obliviated every five minutes, and to prevent the permanent brain damage that causes. It also prevents them from leaving or panicking after they have been Obliviated, since they would no longer have any clue where they were or why they were there. The point is, however, that until Jason is no longer in the care of the witches and wizards at Saint Mungo's, the ministry cannot wipe his memory."

Lucius was furious.

"That's outrageous! Minister, you can't possibly let him get away with exploiting a loophole like that!"

Fudge frowned and summoned a large tome from a nearby shelf. Opening it to a marked page, he began reading. Several minutes later, he looked up, and said, "I'm sorry, Lucius, but this does seem to be correct. As long as Jason (why the devil doesn't the man have a last name, by the way?) resides in Saint Mungo's, he can't be Obliviated." He turned to Dumbledore. "Very well, Jason will not have his memory wiped until his condition is healed." He sighed. "I'm afraid, however, that it will have to happen eventually. And you'll still have to go to Azkaban." Lucius regained some of his typical smugness at this. "I'm sorry, Albus, but there's nothing I can do about this."

"I understand, Cornelius," Dumbledore said gravely, before standing up to leave. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to deliver some rather bad news."

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Sorry for the short chapter, but I couldn't think of a way to extend it, and it's an important one. I figure you guys would rather have what I've got than wait another week or two until I get off vacation.


	14. I Hate This Chapter

dkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdkdk

Well, that was fun.

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I'm boooored and I don't know what to do with this story...

See, this is why we don't write without a net. I'm not sure what writing _with _a net entails, but I'm told that this is why we don't do it.

"They're WHAT!?" cried Harry, staring in disbelief at the headmaster.

"The Ministry of Magic is going to erase your father's memory as soon as he's out of Saint Mungo's," Dumbledore repeated. "Not all of it, just the parts relating to magic."

"They can't do that! You can't just erase somebody's memories!" Harry exclaimed. "That's murder!" Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. A person's memories was who they _were. _If you change or erase the memories, you change the person entirely. He'd learned that when Dad had taught him about the heroes of Rapture- Jack Ryan and Subject Delta. Jack Ryan's entire life had been fake. His whole personality had been intentionally created through the insertion of certain specific memories into his brain. Subject Delta had been the opposite. Before his transformation, the man known as Johnny Topside had been arrogant and self-centered. After he lost his memories, he spent several years as a slave with his "daughter" Eleanor. He'd been nearly mindless, but he'd formed memories of his love for Eleanor, and of her love for him. When he was given his freedom, he kept these memories, and the man known as Subject Delta had been selfless and kind.

"I know, I know," sighed Dumbledore, "And I've been fighting the practice for years. Besides the fact that we need to come out in the open in the first place, it's completely unfair to the muggles involved. But the practice is too deeply entrenched in wizarding society to do anything about it any time soon. Eventually, I think that the muggle-borns will be numerous enough to gain a reasonable standing in society, and then things will begin to change, but until then, there's nothing that can be done. m 20ddddddddddddddddddddddddfg I'm afraid your father is going to have his memory erased very shortly."

Harry thought about this for a little while. "So, what will happen to him, exactly?" he asked eventually.

"His memory will be modified to remove all knowledge of magic and wizards. Because the ministry doesn't know about Rapture or how I rescued you from it, and they don't know exactly what he knows or what he has been doing since his rescue, they will likely erase the past few months of his memories and say that he has been in a coma. Jason will lose custody of you, and you will have to live with the Dursleys again. As direct blood relatives of a wizard, they can legally know about magic."

"So, not only are they going to kill my father, they're going to force me to live with my abusive relatives again?"

Dumbledore looked uncomfortable at Harry's assertion that Jason would be killed, but simply nodded.

"In that case, I want to leave."

"What?" Dumbledore raised his eyebrows.

"I want to leave Hogwarts and move in with my father. If wizards murder anybody who finds out about them, I want nothing to do with them. I've managed to survive with Dad for six years. I expect that living with him in London will be a hell of a lot easier. It'll take some getting used to, and I'll miss my friends, and yes, it's a shame I won't be able to use magic, but if this is the only way I can stay with my dad, then that's a sacrifice I'm willing to make."

Dumbledore looked at him thoughtfully, and then spoke.

"You know, that may not be necessary. You're regarded as the hero of the wizarding world. This attack on you and your family- and make no mistake, that's what this is; Lucius Malfoy is manipulating a rarely used loophole in order to hurt you, most likely for attacking his son- will cause a public outrage the likes of which our world has never seen. If you, the Boy-Who-Lived, were to leave the wizarding world, the outrage would be all the greater. We could easily use this to cause major changes in laws and our society in general."

Harry considered this, then nodded.

"Fine. But if things don't change drastically, I'm not coming back."

"I can understand that." Dumbledore responded, then paused. "I was just about to go tell your father of his fate. I suppose this would be as good a time as any for you to go. And that way you can be with your father when he has his memory erased."

Harry nodded. "I'd like that. I'd like to be there for him when those bastards get to him."

Dumbledore stood. "I don't suppose there's anything else to do, then. Let's go."

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Holy crap, that was obscene. I've never had as hard a time writing ANYTHING before as I did with this chapter. I'm still not happy with it (frankly, I kinda hate parts of it), but I figured you guys have been waiting long enough, and after rewriting the entire thing three times, I figured I wasn't gonna improve it any.

I would also like to take the opportunity to explain that the attack on Harry is solely because Lucius Malfoy is involved. He's using his incredible political power to hurt Harry.

Sorry for the sucky chapter, but I had to write something to be able to progress with the story.

Also, should I post any half thought up story that I start, or should I wait until it gets somewhere? I have a pool in my account about that. If you vote on it, you get to use the diving board.

Lastly, please check out my Prototype/FMA crossover challenge. It's a story idea I came up with a while ago- it's something I'd very much like to see written.


	15. Return of the Deadfic

I'm baaaaaack! Sorry it's been so long. I've been depressed lately, and have been distracted by reading other fanfictions. I strongly suggest checking out my favorites list- I only add anything to it if it's absolutely incredible (a couple of them are terribly written, but the idea was so brilliant that I added them anyway), so the stories on there are all great. My personal all time favorite is Mythos Effect. It's extremely well written, a brilliant idea, and all around awesome. If you are unfamiliar with Mass Effect or the Cthulhu Mythos (specifically Cthulhutech, whatever that is), don't worry- it's all well explained. If you do read it, bother Omiscent1 into updating more often. Actually, bother him even if you don't read it. I want more of that story. Same with CplFacehugger, on spacebattles .com. We need to harass him into updating Unfamiliar- he claims he's still writing it, but hasn't updated in like three years. Another FANTASTIC story is _Blood of the Phoenix_, by MidnightJen.

I would like to explain my interpretation of Dumbledore. There are two ways of writing his character that make sense. In the first, and most common, he is manipulating Harry's life, usually for the Greater Good. I feel like this is a mistake. Part of a world is not only the events, but the intent of the writer. Rowling clearly intended for him to be a good guy, not a manipulative bastard. This brings us to the second way of writing his character. In it, he is well intentioned, but is overstretched and out of touch. Think about it- he has like the three most important positions in the wizarding world, and he's 110-ish. He's bitten off more than he can chew, and it's coming back to him. To me, this seems like the only way to balance Rowling's intent with a logical interpretation of Dumbledore's actions, and this is how I will be writing him.

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IMPORTANT: I changed my plans for where I was going with this, so I removed the _Daily Prophet _article in chapter 13. I also plan to add a few interactions with Ron to already written chapters to show what a douche he is. Until I get around to actually adding them, though, just assume he's an ass. Specifically, he bullies Neville and tries to get Harry to hang out with him. If you have any particular interactions you'd like to see, let me know, and I'll see about putting them in.

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Harry looked at his father sadly as Dumbledore explained the situation.

"So, because I'm not a wizard, they're going to wipe my memories?" Jason asked after Dumbledore finished speaking.

"I'm afraid so," Dumbledore answered.

Jason sat back, looking thoughtful. After a few minutes, he grinned.

"When's your trial again?" he asked.

"In three day's time," Dumbledore responded. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, you're being tried for telling a muggle about magic, right?"

"Yes..." Dumbledore said hesitantly.

"So, all we have to do is prove that I'm not a muggle."

"But you _are _a muggle, Jason."

"Could a muggle throw fireballs, or freeze a person solid?"

"Of course n..." Dumbledore froze. "Jason, are you saying that you _can _do these things?"

Jason grinned. "It turns out that the ADAM I'd used changed my DNA so completely that your healers' magic recognized it as being my natural state, and restored _that, _rather than my original DNA. Which means that, not only do I have my plasmids back, but they're stable now- I don't need to keep getting more ADAM. My plasmids were Incinerate!, Insect Swarm, and Winter Blast. Those let me throw fire, summon swarms of bees, and freeze people and items. From what I've learned of wizards so far, they're arrogant. They'd never believe that a bunch of worthless _muggles _found a way to do these things, right?"

Dumbledore nodded.

"Great. So here's what we're going to do..."

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Lucius grinned as Dumbledore, wearing what appeared to be a muggle business suit, was led into the Wizengamot chambers by a group of Aurors. Everything was going perfectly. After the old coot was found guilty of violating the Statute for Secrecy, he'd be stripped of his position as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. With Dumbledore out of the way, the position of Chief Warlock was wide open, and Malfoy had enough influence in the Wizengamot to make sure that he was the one who got it+.

Malfoy watched as Dumbledore sat back in the wooden chair in the center of the chamber, relaxing as if it were the chintz armchair he usually conjured. Dumbledore put one leg on his knee, and folded his hands, staring at Minister Fudge with a twinkle in his eyes.

Fudge stood up and called for order, before looking down at his notes.

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, you stand accused of violating the International Statute for Secrecy by telling a muggle of the existence of magic and of the Wizarding World. How do you plead?"

Dumbledore straightened his tie and stood up.

"This trial is not, as you claim, a matter of violation of the Statute for Secrecy. This trial is about one Lucius Malfoy attempting to get revenge on Harry Potter for protecting his friends from one Draco Malfoy, one of the worst bullies Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry has seen in many years." The members of the Wizengamot were shocked into silence- whatever they had expected, it wasn't this. Before anybody could get their bearings enough to object, Dumbledore continued. "You see, young Draco saw fit to attack Neville Longbottom, the heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Longbottom, so viciously that Mister Longbottom was in the hospital wing for a full three days before he was fully recovered. Harry, a close friend of Mister Longbottom, found Neville laying in a corridor, the victim of no less than nine different jinxes and hexes, many of which had adverse effects on one another. Harry retaliated against Draco in order to deter future attacks his friend. Lucius Malfoy, furious that Harry would dare to attack his son, decided to retaliate against Harry's adoptive father by claiming that the man was a muggle, and should have his memory wiped. While Harry's actions are inexcusable, they are simply a matter of Hogwarts discipline, and such a fierce retaliation is completely inexcusable."

Everybody stared at Dumbledore for a minute, before Toad Lady gave a fake little cough.

"Hem hem," she began. "While that is certainly a _fascinating _tale, professor, it doesn't change the fact that you did in fact tell a muggle about the Wizarding World."

"And how, pray tell, do you know that he is a muggle, Madam Umbridge? I am dressed as a muggle today, despite the fact that this is the third most uncomfortable outfit I have ever worn in my life. Does that make me one?" Dumbledore smiled.

"The healers at Saint Mungoes reported that he has no magical core, of course. Therefore, he is not a wizard."

"I see. Did it, at any point, occur to you that it may be reasonable to _ask_ Jason if he was a wizard or not? Jason has an illness that has affected his abilities. I have respected his privacy and his request to not tell anybody of this. If you wish to learn more of Jason's situation, you will have to speak to him personally."

At this, the members of the Wizengamot began muttering to each other. Was Dumbledore claiming that the man wasn't actually a muggle?

After the murmuring died down, Dumbledore continued. "Jason is currently in Saint Mungoes recovering from an illness. Nonetheless, I have spoken to him, and he has agreed to come and explain himself to the esteemed members of the Wizengamot. I will warn you however, he is not willing to give many details. I would also like to mention that he is still recovering, and his actions and attitude may be affected by his illness or his treatments. I would like to call Jason, no last name, adoptive father of Harry Potter, to the stand as a witness."

Fudge sighed. "Very well. I take it you brought him here with you today?"

"I have. He is currently waiting outside to be called in."

Fudge nodded. "Auror Shacklebolt, please bring in the witness."

Shacklebolt nodded, and left, returning a few minutes later with a scowling man in dark blue robes with a gold trim.

The man then glared at the members of the Wizengamot, before his gaze settled on Fudge.

"Before I begin, I would like to apologize in advance for any... negative actions I may undertake. Some of the symptoms of my illness include a shortened temper and decreased impulse control. Now, I understand that I am accused of being a _muggle." _Jason managed to say the word "muggle" with utmost disdain, despite the fact that he wanted to burst out laughing. "I have been living in a complete hell for the past thirty years, and..."

At this point, the toad interrupted him.

"Hem, hem. Would you care to explain exactly where it is that this 'hell' is? Professor Dumbledore is oddly reluctant to speak of the matter, and I'm sure we would all like to know exactly what was so bad about this place."

Jason glared at her. "No, I will not give any details about that place. Suffice to say that it was a city, which now lies in ruins and is overrun by monsters the likes of which you can't imagine. _Anyway, _I, and my son, Harry Potter..."

"Hem, hem." Toad Lady said again. "Could you please explain how young Harry came to be in such a horrible place, and how he came to call you father?"'

Jason twitched violently, his hand reaching towards his pocket, and glared at her irritably. "I have no idea how he wound up there, but I rescued him from one of the monsters that resides in the city. He helped me begin to recover from the the illness that originally led to the ruins of the city. As it was unsafe for him to be alone, I took him into my home and protected him. Eventually, I came to regard him as my son, and he considered me his father. May I continue what I was saying now?"

Umbridge nodded.

"_Thank you. _My son and I are the first residents of the city to escape in twenty years, and without Professor Dumbledore, we never would have done so. For that, I owe him my life. Now I find out that he is on trial for his actions in rescuing both myself, and Harry Potter, the savior of the Wizarding WOrld. How, exactly, is..."

"Hem, hem. Actually, Professor Dumbledore is..." At this point, Jason reached into his pocket and withdrew a polished stick, prepared in advance for a demonstration of Jason's "magic", and pointed it at the toad. A cone of frost erupted (a close observer would notice that the cone came from the man's _hand, _and not from the "wand," but none of the members of the Wizengamot caught on to this fact) and hit the woman, freezing her solid. As aurors around the room pointed their wands at Jason, he put his wand back into his pocket, and began apologizing profusely.

"I'm terribly sorry about that. As I said, I have not fully recovered, and do not have complete control over my actions. She'll thaw out in a few minutes, but I am afraid that I will have to return to Saint Mungoes immediately. If you wish to ask me any more questions, please wait until I am fully recovered."

Fudge nodded dumbly, and Jason left the courtroom.

"Forgive an old man," Dumbledore said, "but my memory is not quite what it once was. Could somebody please remind me why I am on trial?"

At this, a few people laughed, and Amelia Bones stood up.

"I move to dismiss all charges against Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, as it is clear that there has been no breach in the Statute for Secrecy."

Fudge nodded, and held the issue to a vote. Everybody, including a thoroughly pissed off Lucius Malfoy, agreed, and Dumbledore left the chamber, whistling something that sounded suspiciously like "Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious."

As the court stood up to leave, Madam Bones turned to Minister Fudge.

"By the way, I'm curious as to how the witness was able to get a wand into the Wizengamot chambers. Who was in charge of security again? Wasn't it that guard that you hired at the strong urging of Lord Malfoy, despite all advice against him? Because he seems to have proven himself to be quite incompetent. I suggest that you consider letting him go."

With this final blow to Malfoy's reputation and power base, Madam Bones turned to leave the Wizengamot chambers.

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Again, I'm sorry this took so long.

LEAVE A REVIEW. If nothing else, they encourage me to write more.

9-2-2014


	16. Rescuing the Splicers

I'm having trouble with the next chapter, and remembered that this needed to be included somewhere. So here is a brief interlude from Harry-centric stuff.

**Previously on TPHKN: **At the age of four, Harry accidentally apparated to the underwater city of Rapture, where he is raised by a man named Jason. On his eleventh birthday, Dumbledore finds Harry, and brings him and Jason back to Britain, promising to help save the splicers who are left in Rapture. Dumbledore is put on trial for telling Jason, a muggle, about the magical world, but Jason tricks the Wizengamot into thinking that he is, in fact, a wizard.

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The room had obviously seen better days. The furniture was broken and torn, bottles and remains of bottles lay across the floor, and bullet holes riddled every visible surface. Skeletons lay where they had fallen, and a great, metal humanoid form lay in the center of the room, hands still clutched around the throats of two skeletons.

The most remarkable thing about the room, though, was that it was underwater. Fish that had never seen the light of the sun swam past the glass, algea covered walls, not knowing that mere feet away lay the remains of a great battle.

Or of the events that would soon come to pass in that same room.

There was a loud _crack, _and three figures appeared in the room. An ancient man, with a long white beard and equally long, equally white hair, wearing plaid robes; a man in muggle combat gear, carrying a state-of-the-art, automatic combat shotgun, with grenades strapped across his chest; and a man in grey robes, with a grotesque eye that spun wildly.

"Remember, Moody," said the old man, "we are here to _save _these people. That means you must try your hardest not to kill them. Stick to stunners and similar spells, please."

"I know, Albus" growled the man with the spinning eye, "but it goes against the grain to let someone live who's tryin' to kill me. Even when I was with the aurors I was allowed to respond to lethal force in kind."

"Yes," said Albus, "but these men are not in their right minds. That is why we are here today." He turned to the third man. "Jason, are you sure this will work?"

"Yep. As long as those amulets hold up, most of the splicers will be harmless, since their bullets won't be able to hit you. There may be a few Houdinis left around to chuck fireballs, and Spiders are lethal with those hooks of theirs, but Houdinis are rare nowadays, and as long as we keep an ear out, the Spiders won't pose too much of a threat, so long as we don't run across a whole tribe of 'em."

At this, Albus raised an eyebrow. "I was under the impression that splicers were homicidally insane. How could they have tribes?"

"Well, they _are _bat-shit insane, but they still have some rudimentary intelligence. Some of them have figured out how to work together, and have basic tribal systems. There are even a few remnants of the Family left around."

"I see. And if we run into one of these tribes, what should we do?"

"It depends." Jason replied. "If they're mostly thugs, we can take 'em. Leadheads too, so long as these amulets are good. The Nitros ran out of ammo years ago, and Brutes are solitary, so we don't need to worry about them being in a tribe, and like I said, there are only a handful of Houdinis left around. There just isn't enough ADAM left for them to keep up their Incinerate! and Teleport plasmids. The real threat is if we run into a group of Spiders. If we do, they'll try to swarm us, and come in from the ceiling. In that case, we've got two choices. We can turn tail and run, or we can use weapons that take out groups at a time. Do you have any nonlethal spells that have an area effect?"

"I'm afraid not," Albus replied.

"And all I've got for groups is my grenades and shotgun. Hmmm."

"Why don't we cross that bridge if we come to it?" growled Moody.

"Fair enough," Jason nodded. "In that case, let's begin the hunt."

The three men stealthily made their way through the ruined city, keeping a sharp eye (and ear) out for any sign of movement. It was about half an hour before they found their first target- a Thug trying to hack a vending machine. Before he even noticed the intruders, Moody hit the man in the back with a stunning spell, sending him to the ground. Dumbledore walked up to the man, and drew a small ring from his pocket. He put the ring on the man's finger, and then pressed a rune on it. The ring glowed blue, and the splicer disappeared.

"There," said Dumbledore. "He should remain unconscious long enough for the healers to subdue him before they begin treatment."

Jason nodded, and they moved on.

The next splicer they found was a Leadhead who happened to be waiting in ambush, hoping for something or someone to eat. The first warning they had than anyone was present was when the splicer let loose with his machine gun, spraying bullets all across them. Had it not been for the protective amulets they wore, specifically designed to block bullets, then all three men would have died then and there. As it was, the bullets swerved around their targets and hit the wall behind them. Moody fired another stunner, but the splicer dodged it, only to move into the path of Jason's Winter Blast plasmid, which promptly froze him solid.

Moody nodded at the ex-splicer, and Dumbledore moved to put the portkey ring on the Leadhead.

"Wait! He'll thaw out in a few minutes. We need to make sure he can't hurt the healers. Can you tie him up or something?" Jason asked.

"Thank you, Jason. I forgot that your Plasmids don't last very long. _Incarcerous,_" Dumbledore pointed his wand at the frozen splicer, and thick ropes shot out and surrounded the man. After the splicer was safely incapacitated, the wizard placed the portkey ring on the man's frozen finger and pressed the activation rune.

This went on for some time. The three men would hunt down splicers, incapacitate them, and put a portkey on their finger, sending them to a specially prepared ward in Saint Mungos, staffed by the most skilled and trustworthy healers in Magical Britain. Fortunately for the three hunters, they did not run into any splicer tribes, though they did run into a few small groups.

After about six hours of hunting, Dumbledore put s portkey onto the Spider Splicer they had just immobilized (thanks to a well aimed Full Body Bind from Dumbledore), and turned to Jason.

"I'm afraid that was my last portkey. We'll have to return to Britain, and come back another time with a larger supply," he said apologetically.

"That's fine," Jason said. "We've had a good day. Besides, there's an entire city to save. It's not like we're gonna get everybody in one day."

Dumbledore nodded, and took Jason's hand. There was another loud _crack_, and the three men disappeared.


	17. Halloween

Previously on TPHKN: At the age of four, Harry accidentally apparated to the underwater city of Rapture, where he is raised by a man named Jason. On his eleventh birthday, Dumbledore finds Harry, and brings him and Jason back to Britain, promising to help save the splicers who are left in Rapture. Dumbledore is put on trial for telling Jason, a muggle, about the magical world, but Jason tricks the Wizengamot into thinking that he is, in fact, a wizard. After Jason's recovery, he, Dumbledore, and Mad-Eye Moody go to Rapture to rescue the surviving splicers and cure them.

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"Troll! In the dungeon!" came the voice of Professor Quirrell. "Thought you ought to know." Everybody froze their conversations and turned to look at the professor just in time to see him collapse in a dead faint, then the Great Hall erupted into panicked conversation.

Several loud explosions came from the front of the Hall, and the panicked students quickly silenced as they looked at the Headmaster, who was standing, wand outstretched, behind the staff table.

"Prefects," said Dumbledore, "please take your Houses to your dormitories immediately! The teachers and I will head to the dungeons to deal with the troll."

With that, Dumbledore and the other professors raced from the Great Hall, leaving the room full of confused and scared children.

The students milled around for a little while, until Percy Weasley stepped up.

"Follow me, Gryffindors! We need to make it back to the common room! Do not worry! So long as you follow my orders, you shall be safe from the troll!" he said in his usual pompous manner. Fortunately, most of the younger students were afraid enough to follow any authority figure, and the sixth, and seventh years decided that it was best to stay with the younger students in case they ran into the troll on the way to the common room (as well as humoring Percy).

The first years huddled around the older prefect, with the second years close behind, and the rest of the Gryffindors followed in a loose mob. Shortly afterwards, the other Houses began to filter out of the Great Hall, save Slytherin, whose members didn't exactly want to go to their common room, as it was in the same general vicinity as the troll.

The Gryffindor students had just reached the second floor when Harry realized that somebody was missing.

"Hermione! She's still in the bathroom!" he said to Neville, remembering what Parvati had said earlier. "Make sure Percy doesn't notice that I'm gone!"

And with that, Harry sped away towards the girls' bathroom. As he ran, he cursed himself for leaving his pistol in his trunk. Jason had always taught him never to go anywhere without a weapon, but Harry had grown complacent during his time away from Rapture, and had stopped being so vigilant about it, seeing as he'd not encountered any real threats during his time in the Wizarding World.

Harry tore through a false wall and into a secret passageway he'd discovered during his wanderings. After a few minutes of frantic sprinting, he came out a little ways from the grills' bathroom- close enough to hear a piercing scream, followed by a loud roar and a crash. Harry put on even more speed, arriving at the open girls' bathroom in time to see the troll raise its club for another swing at a nearby sink.

As he entered the bathroom, the troll smashed the sink to pieces. Porcelain shattered and flew across the bathroom, water began spraying from the newly exposed pipes, and Hermione let out another terrified shriek.

Without thinking, Harry fired his active Plasmid- Winter Blast.

The cone of ice shot out of Harry's hand and hit the troll, the water that was spraying from the already broken sinks, and the panicked muggleborn laying on the ground.

"FUCK!" Harry said when he saw that Hermione was frozen. Now he wouldn't be able to get her out of the bathroom until she thawed out, which would be at exactly the same time as the troll did.

Using his few precious moments, Harry considered his options. Given the fact that they were both soaked, Electro Bolt would kill him and Hermione, and likely not the troll, considering how tough the damned things were. Incinerate! was too dangerous in such close quarters. The wasps from Insect Swarm wouldn't be able to penetrate the troll's hide. Hypnotize... _actually, that's not a bad idea, _Harry thought to himself. He'd practically forgotten that he had the Hypnotize Plasmid in the first place, since he'd never really had cause to use it before.

Seeing that the ice on the troll was beginning to thaw, Harry triggered the muscle pattern to switch to Hypnotize. A red globule appeared in his hand, and, as soon as the troll broke free of its icy prison, Harry threw the globule directly into the troll's face. Knowing that the troll would quickly throw off the Plasmid, Harry turned around to the now thawed Hermione.

"Come on! We've got to get out of here!" Harry said as he pulled Hermione to her feet.

Hermione shakily stood up, and followed as Harry dragged her out of the bathroom. Once they reached the doorway, they broke into a run again.

A few minutes later, Harry and Hermione ran into, literally, a crowd of racing professors, sending the diminuitive Professor Flitwick flying, and causing Snape to grip his left leg and swear viciously.

"What, _exactly, _are you doing here, instead of in your dormitories, as Professor Dumbledore ordered?" McGonagall asked.

Looking up at her, Harry could tell she was about ready to explode, so he spoke quickly, bending the truth just a little bit.

"When Professor Quirrel told us about the troll, Hermione was in the bathroom. I came to get her. I figured that since the troll was in the dungeon, I'd be able to get her out of the bathroom safely, but we ran into the troll on our way to the common room, and ran."

"And why did you not tell a teacher or a prefect about Miss Granger's location, instead of rushing off to save the day on your own?" Snape sneered.

"In case you'd forgotten, professor, the only teacher left in the Great Hall was unconscious at the time. And if you've ever met Percy Weasley (which you should have, considering he's one of your students), you'd realize that when he has his mind set on something, such as guiding his 'inferiors' to the common room, it's impossible to talk to him. I tried my hardest, but all that happened was he took two points away from Gryffindor for interrupting him during a crisis. I figured it was best..."

At this point, the Hypnotize Plasmid wore off, and the troll began roaring and smashing things again.

"Very well. Mister Potter, Miss Granger, please go to my office," McGonagall said quickly. "I will deal with you there. Quirinus, please make sure that they get there safely. Severus, Filius, if you will come with me, we must detain the troll before it causes any more trouble."

"Y...y...yes, P...p...prof... professor. Come al... along, ch... children."

Hermione eagerly fell in line behind the stuttering defense professor, whereas Harry kept his distance. He couldn't tell why, but Quirrell made him uneasy, and he had learned to trust his instincts during his stay in Rapture. He had also learned what rotting flesh smelled like- something he was always just barely able to catch a whiff of behind the overarcing scent of garlic that followed Quirrel around. That, if nothing else, was reason to be suspicious.

Suspicions aside, Quirrel didn't do anything untoward during the trip to McGonagall's office.

"Now, we w...will w...w...w...wait here un...until P...p...profess...ss...ssor McGonag...gal arr...rives," Quirrel stuttered, as he waved his wand, creating a set of teacups and a plate with several chocolate bars on it.

Hermione eagerly reached for the chocolate and began nibbling on it. Harry waited carefully, then, when Hermoine suffered no ill effects, he took a bar as well. Likewise, he waited until Quirrel had had a sip of tea before he did so himself.

They waited in silence for some time, until Hermione spoke up.

"Professor, how did you conjure that food without a spell?" she asked.

"W...well c...caught, Miss Grang...ger. Two p...points to Gry...Gryffindor. It is poss...ss...sib...ble to cast sp...spells without an inc...incant...incantation, if o...one is well pract...ticed. Due to m...my c...condition, this is som...mething I have p...put a g...great d...d...eal of wo...work into. I fi...find it ma...makes the likli...li...lihood of a spell fai...failing much l...l...lower."

"Would it be possible for me to learn to cast spells without an incantation?" Hermione asked.

Quirrell chuckled. "N...not for man...ny years, M...miss Granger. It t...takes mu...much pract...tice, and ma...ma...many wiz...wizards nev...never learn i...it at all," he explained.

"Oh," said Hermoine dissapointedly. "Oh well."

Harry sat silently, absorbing the information, and watching as Quirrell and Hermione began to talk more animatedly. He noticed that Quirell stuttered less as he got more into the conversation. It was possible that this was a natural effect of being interested in the subject, but Harry suspected that it was the more sinister possibility that Quirrell was faking the stutter, and forgot about it as his interest in a subject grew.

Just as Harry was reaching for another piece of chocolate, the door opened and Professor McGonagall came into the room.

"Thank you, Quirinus. You may leave now," she said simply, as she sat down behind her desk.

"It has been m...my p...p...pleasure," Quirrel said, standing up. "H...have a n...n...nice n...night, M...miss Granger. Mist...mister P...potter."

Once the defense professor had left and closed the door, McGonagall looked at her students.

"Now. Do you mind giving me the _real_ story, Mister Potter? Because Mister Weasely denies having taken any points from you, and a number of students have agreed that you didn't say anything to him about Miss Granger. I am also curious as to why Miss Granger was in the second floor bathroom, rather than the one on the ground floor."

Harry sighed. "Ron Weasley was making fun of her earlier today," he explained, as Hermione's eyes began watering up. "She was in the bathroom to be alone. I knew Percy wouldn't listen, so I didn't even bother with him. I only made that up because Snape's an ass."

McGonagall glared at Harry. "Ten points from Gryffindor for insulting a professor, Mister Potter. In addition, I will be taking fifteen points for disobeying Headmaster Dumbledore, and ten points for lying to a teacher. I will also," she turned to Hermione "be giving Mister Weasley a week's worth of detention for his bullying. Lastly," McGonagall turned back to Harry. "Gryffindor will recieve ten points for your actions in helping Miss Granger. Now, if you will both go to your common room, the Halloween feast is being continued there."

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Jason looked around him. He was currently in one of several specially prepared buildings used for treating the rescued splicers. It had been a full month since he, Dumbledore, and Moody had started their mission in Rapture, and they'd found over two hundred of the poor bastards. As of yet, only sixty or so had recovered to the point of any kind of sanity. These sixty were now gathered together, looking at the man who had saved them as he finished talking.

"So, to recap, magic is real, and we used it to save your asses. Rapture is abandoned now, and we intend to keep it that way. To that end, Dumbledore here came up with a little plan. We have here a magical contract," Jason held up a piece of parchment, "which states that you will not reveal the nature of Rapture, ADAM, or splicing to _anybody._ If you do, the magic of the contract will kick in, and you will die . Painfully. Anyone who doesn't wish to sign this contract will be returned to Rapture immediately. So, what do you say?"

A grizzled old man with the long limbs of a former Spider Splicer stood up.

"I think I speak for everbody when I say that we'll all sign that contract happily. Nobody wants to go back to that hellhole, and I can't imagine why we'd want to tell anybody about it anyway. I'm not losing anything by signing, and I sure as fuck don't want to be sent back to Rapture. I'll sign."

The old man stepped forward and took the quill from Jason, then signed his name on the parchment with a flourish.

Next, a hulking man, obviously a former Brute, stepped forward.

"You saved my ass. If signing some magic paper is what it takes to not go back, I'll do it in a fucking instant."

The next person to stand was another former Spider Splicer, a woman this time.

"I'll sign, but how are we gonna live with the wizards? You said that you tricked them into thinking you're a wizard, but that won't last long. Sooner or later they'll notice that we can't actually do magic, and they'll start asking questions. What then?"

Jason grinned. "Actually, Dumbledore and I have already taken care of that. Have a look." With that, Jason tossed a copy of the _Daily Prophet _to the woman.

**Wizengamot Fooled! **  
**A New Kind of Magic!**

In the recent court case against Albus Dumbledore, the esteemed wizard  
was accused of telling a muggle of the existence of magic. Professor Dumbledore  
defended himself by claiming that the man in question, named Jason (no last name)  
was not, in fact, a muggle. Jason demonstrated magical abilities, pulling a wand and  
casting an unidentified spell to freeze Madam Dolores Umbridge solid. In light of  
this evidence, the Wizengamot cleared Professor Dumbledore of all charges, and  
acknowledged Jason as a wizard. However, in a recent interview, Jason announced  
that he is not, in fact, a wizard at all, nor is he a muggle. He claims to be a member of  
a different group of magic users known as "splicers." Splicers, he says, are not like  
wizards. Each splicer has a different magical ability or set of magical abilities,  
which they can perform at will, without a wand."My people," Jason says, "went  
into hiding from the muggles many years ago, much like the wizards did. We created a  
hidden city, one where we could live in freedom and peace. For some time, we lived  
together in our city, and developed art and science the likes of which the world has  
never seen. A few decades ago, however, our city was overrun by a dangerous disease.  
Due to our isolation, there was no escape. Everybody in the city was infected. Before long,  
the city was in ruins, and monsters overran our beautiful city was overrun by monsters.  
Six years ago, I saved a young boy, Harry Potter, from one of these monsters and adopted  
him as my son. A few months ago, Professor Dumbledore rescued the two of us, and promised  
to save the surviving splicers and help to cure them. We have now saved many of my people,  
and they are looking forward to living in peace with other magic users." While the Wizengamot  
was furious at being tricked, they acknowledge that Jason acted in the best interest of his own  
survival, as he had not yet known whether his people could be saved, and have agreed to grant  
the splicers a place in wizarding society.

"So," said Jason, "as long as nobody blabs about the reality of splicing, which is the purpose of this contract, we'll be welcome to live with the wizards. Are there any other questions?"


	18. Christmas

I'd like to apologize in advance for any inaccuracies which may be present in this chapter, and for the intentional vagueness which I intend to use to avoid such inaccuracies. While I do hunt, the extent of my gun knowledge consists of "This is a rifle, this is a shotgun, this is a pistol. Point them thataway," and I don't feel like researching this stuff.

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November came and went, the temperature dropped, snow fell, Quidditch games were played, and Christmas Break began. Most students went home for the break, but Jason hadn't found a place for them to live in yet, so Harry had to stay at Hogwarts with the few other students who weren't going home. The only other Gryffindors who were staying at Hogwarts were the Weasley family, and Royce Salinger, a second year Slytherin, was the only one of Harry's friends who was staying. Royce introduced Harry to his hobby of Gobstones, and they spent most of their time playing together in an empty classroom off of the Great Hall.

Christmas morning arrived, and Harry awoke to see, at the foot of his bed, a single wrapped package. Slightly disappointed that none of his friends had given him anything, he shrugged and climbed out of bed and got dressed. He then tore open the package without checking for a label (it was obviously from Dad, after all), to find a shimmering gray cloak. As he unfolded it, a note fell to the ground. Happy that Dad had thought to send a note, he picked it up. To his surprise, it was written in, not his father's untidy scrawl, but a thin, spidery handwriting which read _Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well. A Very Merry Christmas to you._

Harry looked around for a package from his father, but he couldn't find any other presents besides those belonging to Ron, who was still sound asleep.

_Why didn't he send me anything? _Harry wondered, a tear crawling down his face. _Even in Rapture he gave me Christmas presents. And what about my friends? I got _them _presents. Isn't that normal? Or do only family members give presents in Britain? And still, what about Dad?_

Harry took off the cloak and stored it in his trunk, then, still crying, made his way downstairs to the Great Hall. When he arrived at the entrance, he walked through the doors, head down, and made his way to the end of the single long table that had replaced the house tables for the Holiday.

"Hey, bud. What's wrong?" called a voice.

Harry looked up. _Dad?_ "Dad!" he yelled, vaulting over the table he'd been about to sit down at.

"Hey, son." said the grinning Jason as his adopted son hugged him around the waist. "What's got you down?"

"I thought you had forgotten about Christmas." Harry replied, "I woke up, and I only had one present. I thought it was from you and that maybe Brits only give presents to friends. But then I opened it and it had a note in somebody else's handwriting, saying it was my father's."

"Really? You got something of your birth dad's?"

"Yeah. Some sort of cloak. I still don't get why the wizards can't wear normal clothes."

"It's to make them feel special." Jason said. "And of course I didn't forget Christmas. How could I forget sneaking past a Big Daddy for the last can of pumpkin in all of Rapture?"

Harry grinned and hugged his dad again. "So, where's my present? And did you get a pumpkin pie? Apparently, they don't eat pumpkin pie in Britain."

"Look behind you!" Jason said, grin widening.

A somewhat confused Harry turned around, and his jaw hit the floor. At the end of the Great Hall, the teacher's tables had been replaced with piles upon piles of presents. Big presents, little presents, presents that made funny noises, presents in paper that changed colors, and even one present that was smoking slightly.

"Merry Christmas, Harry, my boy!" Said Dumbledore, who was sitting on top of a pile of gifts that had been arranged to form a chair. "You'll have to forgive me for not having your presents sent to your room, but there simply wasn't space for them all in your dormitory."

"What... Why... How many are there?" Harry eventually managed to choke out.

"Six hundred and forty-three, I believe. Some of them are from your friends, yes, but I understand that the vast majority of them are from the Splicers you are responsible for rescuing. They wanted to find a way to thank you. In addition to the gifts here, you now own eleven houses, two mansions, a partially restored Welsh castle, a Spanish vineyard, and, for some reason, an American arms and ammunitions company."

"What? They're giving me their _houses? _They can't do that! Where will they live, now that they're out of Rapture, if they've given me their houses?"

"That's an issue that's currently being resolved, actually." Jason said quickly. "The majority of the property in question isn't in any condition that's suitable for living in, though the vineyard and the arms company are still running. But as a rule, when someone was invited to Rapture, they sold their property in the muggle world. What you've been given are the properties that, for whatever reason, weren't sold or repossessed by the banks, which means that they've all fallen into disrepair. Except for one place in Germany, where the owner had the good foresight to arrange for a caretaker who lives there in his absence. But don't worry, we're working on places for the splicers to live. Right now, however, you have presents to open." Jason grinned again at this last sentence.

"Which one's yours?" Harry asked happily.

"This one is," said Dumbledore, pointing to a long package on the top of a small pile of gifts. "The ones beneath it are the gifts from your friends."

Harry grinned and grabbed the package, tearing it open immediately.

"COOL!" He shouted.

"What? What is it?" Asked FredorGeorge, who'd just arrived alongside his twin.

"It's a shotgun!" Harry said happily.

"A shotgun?" asked GeorgeorFred.

"Yep. Semi-automatic, too."

"It also has all sorts of enchantments on it, courtesy of Mad-Eye. No kick, magically steadied, assisted aiming, and automatic reloading- as long as you own the ammo, it'll be transferred to the chamber as soon as it's empty. The ammo's enchanted, too, to follow it's target. You can also use this dial to give the ammo different special qualities when its fired. It also has an instant draw feature- just say 'Fratz,' and it'll appear in your hand. It's got a Notice-Me-Not charm on it, so unless someone is specifically looking for it or you draw attention to it, they won't see it. Lastly, it can't be taken away from you unless you give it up willingly (and no, things like the Imperius Curse don't count), and it's virtually indestructible."

"Sorry," said GeorgeorFred, "but what's a shotgun?"

A few other students had arrived by this point, and they were all looking equally confused.

"It's a type of gun." Harry said.

"And... what's that?" asked an older girl in Hufflepuff colors.

"What's what?" asked Jason

"What's a gun?" huffed a gangly Ravenclaw boy.

Harry and Jason just stared at the girl.

"What?" she asked.

"You don't know what a gun is?" Harry asked.

Collectively, the gathered students shook their heads. Jason turned to Professor Dumbledore.

"Professor, may I have a word with you?"

"Certainly, Jason. I suggest that you continue opening presents, Harry. You have quite a lot of them to get through." Dumbledore said, waving at the pile of gifts.

"Wait, those aren't just decorations?" asked the Hufflepuff.

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Three hours later, Harry grinned as he looked around at the mountain of wrapping paper, ribbons, and tape that was the Great Hall. On the other end of the room was the pile of weapons, tools, gadgets, and other items Harry had received from the grateful Splicers. In addition to pretty much every kind of firearm he could wish for (all of which were heavily enchanted), he had received a caterpillar which would provide him with EVE, a crossbow whose quiver never emptied and had partitions for different kind of bolts, a trunk which was large enough on the inside to contain all of his new stuff, a set of body armor which would always fit him no matter how much he grew, a grappling gun, a remote controlled helicopter with a camera on it, a tent that was much larger on the inside, a small refrigerator which expanded when he opened it, a magic box which always had clean clothes, tooth cleaning ration bars (chocolate flavored), a wand holster, and a small device which showed the surrounding area and any life-forms in range.

"So Dad, can we go somewhere and try some of these out?" Harry asked excitedly.

"That's what I was talking to Dumbledore about. He's having Hagrid set up a shooting range with the pumpkins that he didn't use for Halloween. We'll be able to show your friends what exactly a gun is. And no, you can't try out the grenade launcher. Who gave you that, anyway?"

Harry consulted a piece of parchment on the table in front of him. "John Meltzer. The note said he wanted to thank me for reuniting him with his daughter."

"Well, I guess I can't chew _him _out too much. Still, why a grenade launcher?"

"It's the one he used in Rapture. Why can't I try it out?"

"Because _I _want to give it a shot first." Jason grinned.

"That's no fair! It's my gun!" Harry whined.

"Don't worry, son. You'll get a turn. Just... after I've blown some shit up."

"Fine. Let's go! I wanna try out the new shotgun you gave me!" Harry said, running for the door. "C'mon, everybody! We're gonna show you what guns can do!"

Jason and Harry, followed by a crowd of curious students, made their way to the Quidditch pitch. The professors filed the students into one end of the pitch, while Harry, and a middle aged man with slightly graying hair made their way to the shooting station that Professor McGonagall had conjured.

Jason turned to the small crowd, which consisted of about twenty students and all of the teachers.

"Time for a crash-course in muggle weaponry," he started. "That's right- I'm showing you muggle devices, and why an ordinary muggle with little training is easily capable of kicking your ass." The arrayed students laughed and jeered, and one actually left the stands and walked back to the castle. "Laugh all you want, but these weapons are powerful enough that almost any splicer knows "This is what is called a handgun or a pistol." Jason held up Harry's pistol for the crowd to look at. "This particular pistol isn't very powerful, so it can't do much damage, but good shot can still do some serious damage with it." He turned to Harry and handed the gun to his son. "Professor Dumbledore, please provide a target for Harry to shoot."

Dumbledore waved his wand lazily, and a small pumpkin, roughly the size of Harry's head, floated from a pile at the end of the pitch to hover at about eye level towards the front of the Quidditch pitch. In a flash, Harry's hands moved out in front of him, there was a loud _crack _as if somebody had apparated, and a small hole appeared in the pumpkin.

"That wasn't terribly impressive, Harry. How about the shotgun?" Jason said as the students yawned

"Harry, could you show them your shotgun, please?"

Harry obliged, and Jason continued speaking.

"This is a twelve gauge, semi-automatic combat shotgun. Professor Dumbledore, if you would provide a series of larger targets this time." Dumbledore waved his wand again, and five largish pumpkins floated out towards the front of the pitch and began dancing around irregularly. "You may want to cover your ears." This last was, of course, to the watching students. A few of them put their hands over their ears, one cast a spell, but the rest shrugged. How bad could it be?

The first shot hit its target dead on, causing the pumpkin to explode violently, sending bits of vegetable matter into the air. The second was low, but Harry adjusted quickly, and once again, the pumpkin was obliterated. The third was a little to the left, and half of the vegetable in question was blasted into oblivion, while the remaining half spun wildly and went flying. Another quick two shots, and Harry had destroyed that half too. The fourth pumpkin Harry hit dead on, destroying it, but the fifth one he missed the first time around.

"Harry's not had too much practice with a shotgun, but that was enough to give you an idea what they can do. Now my friend here, Captain MacFarlane of the Irish Army, will be demonstrating a different kind of gun. This is a fully automatic assault rife. It doesn't do as much damage, but has better rang and it fires _very _quickly. One of the larger ones this time, Professor. And again, this gets a bit loud." This time, all of the students covered their ears or cast a muffling charm as Harry took aim, then let loose.

A large pumpkin as big as Jason's chest floated out and hovered in the middle of the pitch. MacFarlane took aim, then a series of _bangs_ issued from his weapon, and the bullets tore into their target, tearing off large chunks of shell.

"Harry, could you show us the Forty-four?"

Harry shrugged and selected another gun from the variety on the counter in front of him.

"Fire when ready, son." Jason said, this time remembering that he was on a shooting range.

Harry took aim, let out a breath, and pulled the trigger.

The pumpkin abruptly exploded, bits of pulp and shell flying into the air. The crowd murmered slightly, and Jason turned back to them.

"That was a much more powerful pistol. Specifically, a Forty-four caliber Smith and Wesson Model 29. I know that doesn't mean anything to you, so let me say this- it's a fucking big gun." Professor McGonagall coughed loudly at the word "fuck," but Jason ignored her. "If somebody points one of these things at you, you're screwed."

"Lastly, we have a sniper rifle. It's absurdly powerful, has a huge range, and is extremely accurate. It also happens to be the Captain's specialty. Professor, if you'll show the target to the students first, this time."

A small apple floated out in front of the students, and they could all see that it was painted with an orange and white target on one side.

"Now, ordinarily a target like this would explode when it gets shot with a gun as powerful as a sniper rifle, but we wanted to be able to demonstrate how accurate these guns can be, so this particular apple is enchanted to be virtually indestructible. The rifle will dent it, but no more. Professor, if you'll move it to the far end of the pitch."

The watching students murmured to one another as the apple zoomed across the field, then, just barely visible to the audience, began rotating slowly.

"When you're ready, Captain."

The Captain laid down on the ground, rifle against his shoulder, and took aim. The small crowd watched silently as MacFarlane lay motionless in the snowy grass, then pulled the trigger. An enormous _bang _shot through the field. Professor Dumbledore waved his wand again, and the apple flew to the aged wizard, who carefully plucked the target out of the air and examined it. His eyebrows raised, and he handed the apple to the student next to him, who examined it, gasped, and showed it to the student next to him, who gasped, and showed it to the student next to him, and so on. When the Apple had made it about halfway through the audience, somebody finally objected.

"Bullshit!" called the Ravenclaw from earlier. "There's no way you hit it from all the way over there. You must have faked this!"

"You callin' me a liar, boyo?" MacFarlane asked in a light Irish accent. "I've been a sniper for eighteen years now. That shot was _easy._ I coulda hit that apple from twice that distance if I weren't so out of practice."

"Yeah, I'm calling you a liar. Nobody could have hit that. You expect me to believe _muggles _can do it?"

"Now see here, boy, you'd better learn not to talk about things you don't understand. Muggles could kick yo-our asses, if they knew y-we existed. Or did you forget that the entire wizarding world is _hiding_? If muggles are so weak and stupid, explain the fact that we've been hiding from them for centuries?"

The boy opened his mouth, closed it, then repeated the process a few more times before sitting down again with a huff and an "I still don't believe you hit that apple."

At this point, MacFarlane's hand caught fire, and Jason quickly stepped in and began talking to the Irishman in a low voice. The Captain visibly sighed, then nodded. The flame on his hand went out, and MacFarlane stepped back.

"Whether you believe it or not, that _was _a genuine demonstration," said Jason. "But we're not quite finished here. We've got one last gun to show you. This," he held up yet another weapon, "is a grenade launcher. It's one of the more dangerous of muggle weapons. Put simply, it makes things go 'boom.' It's kinda like a blasting charm, but much more powerful."

The students perked up at this, especially the Weasley twins. Who didn't love a good explosion?

"Harry and I have had a bit of a debate about who gets to try this one out first, but eventually, it was decided that I'd go first."

"Wait, what?" Harry asked.

"I'm bigger than you are, son. So I get to go first."

"And _I'm _friends with a Big Daddy. Do you really wanna go there?"

Jason hesitated, then handed his son the grenade launcher.

"As I said, eventually, it was decided that Harry would go first." The small crowd, despite not knowing what a "big daddy" was, laughed. "The big one this time, Professor. Oh, and you guys _will _want to cover your ears for this one."

Dumbledore waved his hand, and a tremendous pumpkin, big enough for Jason to sit in, floated out onto the Quidditch Pitch. Professor Flitwick, on Jason's instruction, erected a barrier in front of the students to prevent damage from shrapnel, and Jason nodded to Harry.

There was a loud _Ka-chunk,_ and a round object flew out of Harry's grenade launcher. The grenade arched out into the field, then hit the pumpkin. A gigantic blast filled the air, and a huge chunk of the pumpkin was obliterated. The students gasped at the amount of damage done by the single attack- it would take a severely overpowered _Bomarda Maxima _to do that much damage in one shot. Another _ka-chunk, _another arching projectile, and the pumpkin was gone.

"And that," Jason said, "is why you don't fuck with muggles."

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By the way, if you ever see "xxx" in a story, please let me know. I put that in places that I need to come back to later. That way I can just hit ctrl-f, and type xxx whenever I finish a chapter instead of trying to remember things that I need to come back to. Sometimes, though, I forget to take them out of the text when I'm done. Or I just forget to check for them.


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